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Psychological    Review 

















Volume  2.     1895. 




Copyright,  1895,  by  MACMILLAW  *  Co. 



Alphabetical  indeces  of  names  and  subjects  will  be  found  at  the  end  of  the  volume. 



Hermann  von  Helmholtz  and  the  New  Psychology:  C.  STUMPF      .  x 
The  Theory  of  Emotion  (II) :   The  Significance  of  Emotions :  JOHN 


The  Muscular  Sense  and  its  Location  in  the  Brain  Cortex:  M. 


A  Location  Reaction  Apparatus :  G.  W.  FITZ 37 

The  Knowiug  of  Things  Together:  WILLIAM  JAMES     ....  10$ 
Contributions  from  the  Psychological  Laboratory  of  Columbia  Col- 
lege (III).     Experiments  on  Dermal  Sensations:    HAROLD 
GRIPPING.      The  After- Image  Threshold:  S.  I.  FRANZ.     .  125 
Normal  Defects  of  Vision  in  the  Fovea:  CHRISTINE  LADD  FRANKLIN  137 
Proceedings  of  the  Third  Annual  Meeting  of  the  American  Psycho- 
logical Association,  Princeton,  1894. 149 

Preliminary  Report  on  Imitation :  JOSIAH  ROYCE 217 

.Studies  from  the  Princeton  Laboratory  (I-^V) 236 

Memory  for  Square-Size :    J.  MARK  BALDWIN  and  W.    J. 

SHAW 236 

Further   Experiments   on   Memory  for  Square- Size:  H.   C. 

WARREN  and  W.  J.  SHAW 239 

The  Effect  of  Size-Contrast  upon  Judgments  of  Position  in  the 

Retinal  Field:  J.  MARK  BALDWIN 244 

Types  of  Reaction :  J.  MARK  BALDWIN 259 

Sensations  of  Rotation  :  H.  C.  WARREN 237 

The  'Haunted  Swing  'Illusion:  H.  C.  WOOD 277 

Heat- Sensations  in  the  Teeth:  H.  R.  MARSHALL 278 

The  Psychology  of  Pain:  C.  A.  STRONG 329 

Experimental  Induction  of  Automatic  Processes 348 



Wellesley  College  Psychological  Studies:   directed  by   MARY  W. 


Dr.    Jastroui  on  Community  of  Ideas  of  Men  and  Women : 


Prevalence  of  Par -amnesia :  MARGARET  B.  SIMMONS  .     .     .  367 

Sensory  Stimulation  by  Attention :  J.  G.  HIBBEN 369 

Practical  Computation  of  the  Median :  E.  W.  SCRIPTURE    .      .     .  376 

The  Second  Year  at  the  Yale  Laboratory :  E.  W.  SCRIPTURE  .      .  379 
Some  Observations  on   the  Anomalies   of   Self -Consciousness    (/)  : 


On  Dreaming  of  the  Dead:  HAVELOCK  ELLIS 458 

Emotion,  Desire  and  Interest :  Descriptive:  S.  F.  McLENNAN       .  462 

Reaction  Time  According  to  Race :  R.  MEADE  BACHE    ....  475 
The  Confusion  of  Function  and  Content  in  Mental  Analysis :  D.  S. 


The  Origin  of  a  ' Thing '  and  its  Nature :  J.  MARK  BALDWIN      .  551 
Some  Observations  on  Anomalies  on  Self -Consciousness  (II):  JOSIAH 

ROYCE 574 

The  Perception  of  Two  Points  not  the  Space-  Threshold :    GUY 

TAWNY 585 


Mind  and  Body:  Paul  Shorey 43. 

Attention  as  Intensifying  Sensation:  H.  M.  Stanley.     ...  53 

Pleasure-Pain  and  Emotion:  H.  R.  Marshall 57 

A  Comment:  E.  B.  Titchener 64 

The  Sensations  are  not  the  Emotion:  G.  M.  Stratton     .     .     .  173 

A  Correction:  W.  J 174 

Recent  Developments  in  the  Theory  of  Emotion:  D.  Irons      .  279 

A  Reply:  Shadworth  Hodgson 285 

A  Notice:  Hugo  Mtinsterberg 286 

The  New  Psychology  in  Undergraduate  Work :  H.  K.  Wolfe  .  382 

A  Rejoinder:  G.  S.  Fullerton 388 

Shadows  of  Blood- Vessels  upon  the  Retina:   C.  Ladd  Franklin  392 

A  Communication:  G.  T.  Ladd 394 

A  Notice:  H.  Nichols 397 

Pain  Nerves:  H.  Nichols 487 

Professor  Watson  on  Reality  and  Time:  J.  Mark  Baldwin  .     .  490 

Physical  Pain:  H.  R.  Marshall       .     .     .     , 594 

A  Case  of  Subjective  Pain :  J.  H.  Claiborne 599 



Hallucination  and  Telepathy  (Parish's  Ueber  Trugwahrneh- 
mungen,  Podmore's  Apparitions  and  Thought-Transfer- 
ence, Sidgwick's  Report  on  Census  of  Hallucinations): 
William  James 65 

Ethical  (Seth's  Study  of  Ethical  Principles,  Hodge's  Kan- 
tian Epistemology  and  Theism,  Sharp's  The  Esthetic 
Element  in  Morality) :  J.  G.  Hibben,  R.  B.  Johnson,  L. 
J°nes 7S»  320»  43°,  523»  634 

Neurology:  H.  H.  D.,  Adolph  Meyer,  H.  C.  Warren  \     ?8'  I94'  3°9 

(   413,  512,  618 

Vision:  C.  Ladd  Franklin,  E.  B.  Delabarre,  J.  McK.  C.  \  84'  3I2'  4l6 

516,  627 

Taste:  F.  Kiesow , 89 

Experimental   (Binet's  Psychologic  des  Grands  Calculateurs, 

Travaux  du  Daboratoire  de  la  Sorbonne) :  H.  C.  Warren  .       92 

Recognition  and  Association:  M.  W.  Calkins 94 

Logic  and  Epistemology:  J.  H.  Tufts,  G.S.F.,  A.B.  "...       96 

Anthropology:  D.  G.  Brinton 100 

Educational   and   Child   Psychology:    Earl  Barnes,    F.   Tracy 

101,  190,  507 

Degeneration  and  Genius  (Dallemagne's  De'ge'nere's,  Lombroso's 
Entartung  u.  Genie,  Nordau's  Degeneration,  Hirsch's 

Genie  u.  Entartung) :  W.  J 287 

Philosophical  Remains  of  George  Groom  Robertson;  J.  S.       .     175 
Wundt's    Lectures   on    Human    and  Animal   Psychology:    A. 

Kirschmann 179 

Ladd's  Primer  of  Psychology:  G.  S.  F 180 

Deussen's  Elements  of  Metaphysics:  A.  T.  Ormond  ....     181 
Hyslop's  Elements  of  Ethics:  A.  T.  Ormond    .     .     .     .     .     .     184 

Johnson's  Universal  Cyclopedia,  I.-V. :  J.  D 189 

Evolution  and  Biology  (Osborn's  From  the  Greeks  to  Darwin, 
Willey's  Amphioxus,  Jordon's  Factors  in  Organic  Evolu- 
tion, Gould's  Dictionary  of  Biology,  Collins'  Epitome  of 
the  Synthetic  Philosophy):  J.  M.  B.,  A.  B.,  H.  C.  War- 
ren   189,  413 

Hearing:  F.  Angell 197 

Attention  and  Memory:  H.  N.  Gardiner 199 

Reaction-Time:  J.  McK.  C 200 

Judgment  and  Belief :  G.  M.  Duncan 20^ 

Pathological  (Ziehen's  Psychiatric,  Dumas'  Me"lankolie,  Char- 
cot's  Clinique  des  maladies):  William  Noyes,  A.B.  .  .  209 


General  (Conta's  Theorie  d'Ondulation,  Pioger's  La  Vie  et  la 

Pense"e,  Vignoli's  Peregrinazioni) :  A.  B.,  J.  Phillippe,  E. 

A.  Pace,  C.  W.  Hodge 295,  612 

Ladd's  Philosophy  of  Mind:  A.  C.  Armstrong,  Jr 299 

Hyslop's  Syllabus  of  Psychology:  R.B.Johnson 303 

Mach's  Popular  Scientific  Lectures:  T.  J.  McCormack  .  .  .  304 

Social  Psychology:  J.  H.  Tufts 305,  407,  616 

Memory  and  Attention :  H.  N.  Gardiner 317 

Pathological:  H.  H.  D.,  A.  B.,  F.  Kiesow 325,  637 

Watson's  Comte,  Mill,  and  Spencer:  H.  N.  Gardiner  .  .  .  398 

Morgan's  Introduction  to  Comparative  Psychology:  G.  H.  Mead  399 

L'Anne'e  Psychologique:  J.  M.  B 402 

Volkmann's  Lehrbuch  der  Psychologic:  J.  M.  B 403 

Riehl's  Science  and  Metaphysics:  A.  H.  Lloyd 404 

Criminology  (Kurella's  Naturgeschichte  des  Verbrechers) :  J. 

G.  Hume 408 

Consciousness  and  Imagination:  E.  C.  Sanford,  A.  B.,  H.  N. 

Gardiner 419 

Experimental:  H.  C.  Warren,  W.  J.  Shaw,  L.  Witmer  .  .  .  421 

Movement:  A.  B 428 

Eraser's  Locke's  Essay:  J.  M.  B 495 

Brandt's  Beneke :  G.  T.  W.  Patrick 496 

Bosanquet's  Essentials  of  Logic:  J.  G.  Hibben 498 

Ktilpe's  Einleitung  in  die  Philosophic:  C.  H.  Judd  ....  501 

Marshall's  Esthetic  Principles:  A.  T.  Ormond 504 

Anthropometry:  J.  McK.  C 510 

Pathology:  W.  J.,  F.  Kiesow 529 

Balfour's  Foundations  of  Belief:  G.  M.  Duncan 600 

Sergi's  Dolore  e  Piacere :  W.  J 601 

Wundt's  Logik  der  Geisteswissenschaften:  C.  H.  Judd  .  .  .  604 

Scripture's  Thinking,  Feeling,  Doing:  J.  R.  Angell  ....  606 
Schwartz*  Umwalzungen  der  Wahrnehmungshypothesen :  W. 

R.  Newbold 609 

Haeckel's  Monism:  C.  W.  Hodge 611 

Skin-Sensations:  S.  F.  McLennan,  C.  H.  Judd 630 

Habit  and  Association :  H.  N.  Gardiner 631 

Maudsley's  Pathology  of  Mind:  J.  M.  B 637 

New  Books 103,  214,  328,  431,  533,  640 

Notes 104,  216,  328,  432,  534,  641 

VOL.  II.     No.   i.  JANUARY,  1895. 




University  of  Berlin. 

Since  the  death  of  Darwin,  the  loss  of  no  one  in  the  sci- 
entific world  has  made  such  a  deep  impression  as  that  of 
Helmholtz.  And  this  is  in  keeping  with  that  esteem  and 
admiration  which  in  an  ever-increasing  measure  is  accorded 
to  his  name  in  the  Old  and  the  New  World  as  well,  through- 
out all  scientific  circles,  and  in  that  more  practical  sphere  of 
life  which  in  the  last  decade  especially  has  become  so  largely 
dependent  upon  the  services  of  science.  From  the  early 
beginning  of  his  career,  from  the  time  of  the  anatomical  and 
chemical  studies  of  his  youth,  all  his  researches  were  di- 
rected towards  high  ends,  and  were  crowned  with  great  suc- 
cess. Whenever  he  smote  the  rock  of  nature,  there  gushed 
forth  the  living  waters  of  knowledge.  There  have  always 
been  and  are  well-rounded,  disciplined  minds,  authors, 
philosophers,  and  others,  who  are  able  to  speak  with  easy 
assurance  concerning  everything  in  this  world,  and  of  much 
else  besides.  But  they  are  not  for  the  most  part  minds 
which  are  themselves  productive;  they  are,  on  the  contrary, 
mere  imitators  and  makers  of  books.  There  have  always  been, 
and  are,  moreover,  also  men  of  marked  scientific  note  who 
have  proved  productive  in  various  widely  divergent  fields  of 
knowledge ;  as,  for  instance,  Thomas  Young,  who  in  Optics, 
no  less  than  in  the  science  of  Hieroglyphics,  rendered  con- 
siderable service  to  his  time;  or,  in  a  similar  way,  H.  Grass- 
mann.  But  a  truly  scientific  spirit  of  extraordinary  versa- 

2  C.  STUMPF. 

tility,  and  yet  at  the  same  time  evincing  complete  unity  of 
organization,  with  all  its  ideas  harmoniously  connected  one 
with  another,  such  the  world  has  indeed  produced,  but  only 
once  in  the  century. 

It  would  hardly  be  possible  for  any  one  man  to-day  to 
succeed  in  understanding  all  of  Helmholtz'  investigations 
equally  well.  But  each  will  find  a  peculiar  satisfaction  in 
recalling  the  special  impulse  which  he  has  experienced  in  his 
own  department  through  the  inspiration  of  Helmholtz.  And 
the  representatives  of  Physiological  Psychology  should  feel 
themselves  impelled  to  such  a  retrospect,  since  it  is  to  that 
science  that  Helmholtz  dedicated  himself  at  the  zenith  of  his 
power.  The  two  works  which  have  largely  rendered  his 
name  illustrious,  and  from  which  there  has  proceeded  an 
incalculable  stimulus  to  other  men,  belong  to  our  especial 
province.  Without  in  the  least  depreciating  the  thoroughly 
original  and  fundamental  contributions  of  E.  H.  Weber, 
Fechner,  and  Lotze,  nevertheless  it  must  be  acknowledged 
that  these  two  works,  both  on  account  of  the  scientific  con- 
sequences which  have  followed  them,  and  of  the  general  and 
wide-spread  knowledge  of  their  contents  throughout  the 
scientific  world,  have  more  than  all  others  served  to  bridge 
the  gulf  between  Physiology  and  Psychology  —  a  bridge 
across  which  thousands  of  other  men  now  constantly  come 
and  go. 

Like  Dubois-Reymond,  Briicke,  Ludwig,  Henle,  Vir~ 
chow,  Helmholtz  also  came  from  the  school  of  Johannes 
Miiller.  The  latter  who,  as  early  as  1822,  when  still  a  youth 
of  twenty-one,  had  defended  the  thesis  *  Nemo  psychologus 
nisi  physiologus,'  had  early  broken  loose  from  the  chains  of 
the  Nature-philosophy  of  the  school  of  Schelling,  although 
without  repudiating  altogether  the  spirit  of  philosophy.  He 
allied  himself  with  Kant,  Spinoza,  Herbart.  A  certain  taste 
for  philosophy,  at  least  a  friendly  disposition  towards  phi- 
losophy, was  transmitted  to  his  pupils.  But  in  addition  to 
such  an  affinity  we  must  also  note  the  mode  of  exact  obser- 
vation of  physical  phenomena  and  the  experimental  method, 
which  were  likewise  introduced  through  Miiller  into  Ger- 
man physiology.  As  a  consequence  of  this  method  of  re- 


search,  the  scholars  rejected  the  theory  of  '  Vital  Force/ 
to  which  the  master  still  adhered ;  and  in  this  highly  import- 
ant reform  of  the  fundamental  conceptions  of  organic  life, 
fraught  with  such  weighty  consequences,  lay  the  principal 
difference  between  the  new  and  the  old  epochs.  Helmholtz' 
first  work  of  the  pioneer  order,  upon  the  '  Conservation  of 
Energy,'  represents  this  new  spirit  of  inquiry.  In  the  in- 
comparably interesting  and  stimulating  discourse  delivered 
at  the  celebration  of  his  seventieth  birthday,  he  himself  drew 
attention  to  the  fact  that  his  sole  object  in  this  early  work 
had  been  the  critical  examination  and  classification  of  phe- 
nomena in  the  interests  of  physiology.  On  the  other  hand, 
the  pupils  of  Mtiller  maintained  what  was  to  them  the  funda- 
mental law  in  the  theory  of  sense-perception, — the  doctrine 
of  the  specific  energies  of  the  nerves, — although  their  formu- 
lation of  it  did  not  include  the  Kantian  elements  which  were 
attached  to  the  law  as  expounded  by  J.  Miiller.  Helmholtz 
not  only  accepted  the  doctrine  in  general,  but,  as  is  well 
known,  applied  it  in  detail  in  the  spheres  of  Optics  and 
Acoustics,  and  maintained  the  diversity  of  the  specific  ener- 
gies corresponding  to  differences  of  quality  within  one  and 
the  same  sense.  A  third  generation  is  now  empanelled  upon 
this  very  hook.  Whatever  we  may  wish  to  substitute  for 
the  doctrine,  we  still  find  ourselves,  in  my  opinion,  involved 
in  great  uncertainties  and  obscurities.  But  that  is  beside 
the  point  here. 

Intimately  associated  with  the  above-mentioned  the- 
ory, as  far  as  the  facts  go,  although  not  necessarily  con- 
nected with  it,  there  arose  with  Miiller,  and  also  in  his 
school,  the  clear  and  emphatic  consciousness  of  the  incom- 
patibility of  perception,  and  of  psychological  events  in  gen- 
eral, with  the  processes  of  the  outer  world.  Miiller  had 
expressed  himself,  it  is  true,  only  in  a  guarded  manner  con- 
cerning the  nature  of  the  soul  and  its  relation  to  the  body ; 
moreover,  his  ideas  upon  this  subject  can  be  made  to  agree 
with  those  of  his  followers  as  little  as  their's  in  turn  with 
each  other.  But  in  two  respects  at  least  they  were  wholly 
at  one :  that  psychical  activities  occur  only  in  strict  cor- 
relation with  the  physical,  and  yet  that  they  are  throughout 

4  C.   STUMP F. 

peculiar  both  in  their  nature,  and  in  the  minor  taws  of 
connection  to  which  they  are  subject.  Such  formulas  as  the 
following  were  wholly  foreign  to  their  thinking:  that  con- 
sciousness is  mere  appearance,  or  really  nothing  (as  the 
modern  followers  of  so-called  '  Parallelism  '  often  express 
themselves  in  curious  inconsistency.  Indeed,  the  doctrine 
of  the  complete  reality  and  unique  peculiarity  of  the  psy- 
chical phenomena  may  be  regarded  as  a  characteristic  feature 
of  that  epoch. 

While  J.  Miiller,  after  the  appearance  of  his  Handbuch 
der  Physiologic,  turned  his  attention  more  to  the  develop- 
ment of  Comparative  Anatomy,  Helmholtz'  investigations, 
in  accordance  with  his  natural  gifts,  took  quite  another  direc- 
tion. He  was  naturally  qualified  to  be  a  mathematical  phy- 
sicist of  the  first  rank.  While  his  class  was  reading  Cicero 
in  the  Gymnasium,  he  had  been  computing  the  path  of  light 
beams  through  the  telescope,  and  establishing  certain  propo- 
sitions which  were  later  used  by  him  in  his  invention  of  the 
Ophthalmoscope.  He  then  became  a  physician  for  wholly 
practical  reasons,  although  by  no  means  contrary  to  his  own 
tastes ;  yet  after  the  completion  of  his  great  works  on  psy- 
chophysics  he  again  turned  his  attention  to  mathematical 
physics.  His  most  essential  reforms  in  the  theories  of  hear- 
ing and  sight  are  due  to  his  command  of  mathematical  prin- 
ciples, in  connection,  to  be  sure,  with  an  unusual  inclination 
and  aptitude  for  psychological  analysis  and  with  an  extraor- 
dinary inventive  talent  for  the  construction  of  apparatus. 
In  the  latter  respect,  he  himself  makes  the  interesting 
observation,  that  his  youthful  predisposition  for  geo- 
metrical methods  of  treatment  was  developed  in  the  course 
of  his  many  experiments  into  a  kind  of  mechanical  intuition ; 
he  could  feel,  as  it  were,  how  the  angles  and  lines  distribute 
themselves  in  a  mechanical  contrivance,  a  peculiarity  which 
is  also  often  found  in  experienced  mechanics  and  machinists. 

The  <  Physiological  Optics '  appeared  in  parts  during  the 
decade,  1856-66.  The  studies  for  this  undertaking  natu- 
rally extended  to  a  much  earlier  date.  The  invention  of  the 
Ophthalmoscope  in  1851  was  already  an  incidental  fruit  of 
his  exhaustive  studies  in  dioptrics.  Then  followed  the  sev- 


eral  publications,  upon  the  Theory  of  Color,  upon  Accom- 
modation, upon  the  Telestereoscope.  The  great  activ- 
ity in  optical  investigations,  especially  in  the  fifties  and  six- 
ties (consider,  for  instance,  such  names  at  Briicke,  Dove, 
Listing,  Volkmann,  Chevreul,  Plateau,  Fechner,  Brewster, 
Wheatstone,  Maxwell),  makes  the  high  standard  which 
Helmholtz'  work  attained  more  easily  comprehended,  and 
increases  our  astonishment  at  the  intellectual  force  which 
was  able  to  gather  under  new  and  quickening  points  of  view 
this  wealth  of  manifoldly  divergent  results,  both  native  and 
foreign,  and  work  them  into  a  consistent  whole.  We  must 
not  overlook  the  fact  also  that  Helmholtz  took  scarcely  any 
results  from  others  without  independent  verification.  Then 
the  subject  of  Dioptrics,  which  had  been  to  a  certain  extent 
already  written  out,  received  thorough  revision,  both  theo- 
retical and  experimental,  at  his  hands.  The  methods  were 
perfected  in  both  their  applications  (Opthalmometer,  Micro- 
optometer),  all  the  constants  in  the  investigation  of  the  eye 
more  accurately  determined,  and  the  mechanism  of  accom- 
modation cleared  up  in  its  essential  features. 

In  the  subsequent  portions  of  the  work  in  which  Helm- 
holtz establishes  the  peculiar  distinction  between  sensation, 
(as  of  color)  and  perception  (as  of  space),  the  following  form 
the  principal  features :  the  revival  and  detailed  elaboration 
of  Young's  Theory  of  Color — the  first  comprehensive  dis- 
cussion of  the  complex  relations  of  color  sensations  —  and 
the  development  of  the  empirical  theory  of  space.  The  two 
theories  have  passed  into  nearly  all  the  text-books  of  Physi- 
ology, and  have  had  numberless  popularizations;  the  very 
best,  indeed,  of  these  being  by  Helmholtz  himself,  whose 
Popular-wissenschaftliche  Vortrdge  call  out  our  ever-increas- 
ing admiration.  Throughout  the  extensive  range  of  the 
popular  science  literature  of  Germany,  there  are  very  few 
counterparts  to  these  lectures.  They  are  unpretentious  and 
yet,  while  in  good  taste,  sufficiently  ornate ;  they  preserve 
as  admirably  the  golden  mean  between  excessive  diffuseness, 
on  the  one  hand,  and  too  rigid  concentration  on  the  other ; 
they  are  equally  free  from  anecdotes  and  rhetorical  extrava- 
gances, and  especially  free  from  the  common  method  of  first 

6  C.   STUMP F. 

caricaturing  old  or  opposed  views  in  order  to  set  them  aside 
with  superior  wisdom  as  childish  and  absurd. 

Since  then,  as  is  well  known,  the  theory  of  color  has 
been  zealously  attacked  from  many  quarters,  and  other  theo- 
ries, especially  that  of  Hering,  have  been  opposed  to  it. 
The  decision  in  this  controversy  is  still  in  abeyance.  It 
would  not  be  becoming  for  me  to  enter  the  lists  for  either 
side  in  this  connection.  To  psychologists,  however,  the 
question  should  present  itself  more  strongly  than  heretofore, 
whether  the  so-called  composite  colors,  in  distinction  from 
the  primary  colors,  really  result  from  a  number  of  simulta- 
neous sensations,  after  the  analogy  of  a  chord  of  tones,  or 
whether,  on  the  other  hand,  these  combined  color  appear- 
ances which  originate  in  one  and  the  same  place  on  the 
retina,  constitute  an  absolutely  simple  sensation.  If  I  un- 
derstand them  aright,  both  Helmholtz  and  Hering  uphold 
the  former  view,  while  the  majority  of  psychologists  sup- 
port the  latter,  and  there  has  been  no  adequate  discussion 
of  the  matter.  For  each  investigator  seems  to  consider  his 
own  view  self-evident. 

An  especially  attractive  part  of  Helmholtz'  theory  of 
color,  from  a  psychological  point  of  view,  is  his  explanation 
of  simultaneous  contrast.  He  here  introduces  a  principle 
which  he  also  turned  to  good  account  on  other  occasions: 
that,  by  virtue  of  our  past  experiences,  we  often  come  to 
judge  and  designate  objects  of  sense  as  quite  different  from 
what  they  really  appear  to  us  at  the  moment  to  be. 

Notwithstanding  the  masterly  elucidation  of  this  princi- 
ple, the  conviction  has  now  become  quite  general,  princi- 
pally through  the  exhaustive  researches  of  Hering,  that 
Helmholtz,  through  a  combination  of  circumstances,  was  led 
to  resort  to  an  artificial  explanation  instead  of  postulating  a 
simple  reciprocal  action  of  contiguous  nerve-elements  upon 
one  another.  This  leads  us  to  see  that  it  is  the  sensation 
itself  which  is  altered,  not  the  judgment  alone.  Neverthe- 
less, this  principle  of  explanation  is  so  far  forth  of  value,  and 
it  remains  an  important  fact  that  deceptions  respecting  the 
nature  of  sensation  which  can  be  very  well  distinguished  from 
real  illusions,  are  often  brought  about  through  experience. 


It  was  also  in  this  book  that  Helmholtz  first  made  use  of 
*  unconscious  inference '  in  his  explanations,  although  the 
idea  and  the  theory  itself  were  first  definitely  stated  in  con- 
nection with  his  theory  of  space.  The  process  through  which 
such  false  judgments,  as  that  of  color-contrast,  are  produced, 
seemed  to  him  to  be  analogous  to  the  process  of  true  infer- 
ence. The  misuse  which  many  naturalists  and  philosophers, 
who  had  felt  the  influence  of  Schopenhauer,  made  of  this 
theory,  to  bolster  up  various  shallow  views,  gave  Helm- 
holtz an  occasion  later  to  revise  his  view  and  to  substitute 
for  unconscious  inference  a  process  of  association,  which  cer- 
tainly is  truer  to  the  psychological  facts.  Moreover,  we 
must  take  into  consideration  the  fact  that  Helmholtz,  in  the 
Physiologische  Optik,  expressed  himself  guardedly  and  with 
some  reservation  concerning  unconscious  inference.  He 
says:  "  Although,  indeed,  the  similarity  of  these  psychical 
phenomena  with  those  of  conscious  inference  has  been  dis- 
puted, and  perhaps  will  continue  to  be  disputed,  still  the 
similarity  of  the  results  is  not  at  all  in  doubt." 

In  the  theory  of  space  perception  Helmholtz  departs 
wholly,  as  is  well  known,  from  Joh.  Miiller,  and  erects  an 
imposing  structure  on  quite  a  different  plan.  Miiller  had 
made  the  perception  of  the  third  dimension  a  matter  of 
empirical  judgment,  but  he  had  not  determined  the  neces- 
sary moments  of  the  process  precisely.  It  was  probably 
the  investigations  of  Wheatstone  in  single  vision  with  non- 
identical  points  and  the  observations  of  single  vision  in 
certain  squint-eyed  persons,  together  with  Lotze's  ingenious 
disquisition  upon  the  space-problem,  which  gave  rise  to  the 
first  tendency  in  this  direction.  Helmholtz  opposes  the 
empirical  to  the  nativist  theory.  Even  those  who  are  of  the 
opinion  that  no  one  can  be  wholly  just  to  the  established 
psychological  facts  without  certain  concessions  to  the  theory 
of  nativism  will,  nevertheless,  still  most  readily  acknowledge 
the  credit  which  Helmholtz  has  won  for  himself  in  his  treat- 
ment of  this  cardinal  question.  The  antithesis  between 
nativism  and  empiricism  has  still  more  extended  bearings; 
it  appears  in  nearly  every  psychological  question ;  it  charac- 
terizes entire  schools  which  have  been  opposed  to  one 

8  C.  STUMPF. 

another,  especially  in  English  psychology,  for  a  long  time. 
The  exhaustive  investigation  of  the  materials  for  the  theory 
of  space  from  an  empirical  standpoint  has  greatly  lightened 
the  critical  examination  of  the  same  for  all  subsequent 
thinkers.  Always  in  the  habit  of  searching  for  certain  and 
clear  criteria,  Helmholtz  sought  some  characteristic  mark  to 
distinguish  between  that  which  is  a  real  sensation  and  that 
which  arises  from  some  supplementary  experience.  That  isr 
he  recognizes  as  sensation  only  that  part  of  our  intuition 
which  can  not  be  accounted  for  through  assignable  experi- 
ence processes,  which  might  have  produced  a  contrary 

Another  principle  of  great  value,  also,  to  acoustics,  con- 
cerns the  discrimination  of  simultaneous  sensations.  We 
have  been  accustomed  to  regard  a  total  of  sensations  con- 
stantly presented  together  as  a  common  sign  for  a  single 
object,  and  the  discrimination  of  these  sensations  is  thereby 
rendered  more  difficult.  This  principle  he  applied  espe- 
cially to  the  explanation  of  experiences  of  single-vision.  The 
Physiologische  Optik,  as  is  well  known,  contains  also  his 
philosophical  theory  of  the  relation  of  our  consciousness  to 
the  outer  world,  to  which  Helmholtz  in  his  Thatsachen  der 
Wahrnehmung  latterly  returned,  the  theory  that  the  a  priori 
self-evident  law  of  causation  necessitates  the  acceptation  by 
us  of  an  outer  world ;  that,  however,  our  knowledge  of  this 
outer  world  must  remain  essentially  a  symbolical  one,  and 
that  our  sensations  are  merely  signs  of  what  is  real.  On  the 
occasion  of  his  'Jubilee,'  Helmholtz  spoke  in  quite  an  elegiac 
strain  of  the  reception  which  these  views  had  received  at  the 
hands  of  philosophers.  Without  inquiring  to  what  extent 
the  blame  may  be  due  to  certain  weaknesses  of  his  represen- 
tation, or  to  what  extent,  also,  to  the  high  plane  of  discus- 
sion and  the  subtilty  of  his  general  concepts,  or  on  the 
other  hand  to  the  dearth  of  clear  thinking  on  the  part  of 
some  at  least  of  the  philosophers  who  have  not  passed 
through  the  exacting  discipline  of  physics,  we  are,  how- 
ever, certain  that  all  his  philosophical  colleagues  felt 
extremely  thankful  to  him  for  his  gifts  in  this  direction  also. 
In  my  own  personal  opinion,  at  least,  the  theory  of  the 


symbolical  knowledge  of  the  outer  world  really  hits  upon 
the  right  conception.  But  be  that  as  it  may,  at  any  rate  the 
introduction  of  such  considerations  into  his  work,  and  the 
accompanying  evidence  of  the  deepest  interest  in  philosophi- 
cal problems,  has  been  largely  instrumental  in  keeping  alive 
and  stimulating  such  interest  among  students  of  nature  in 
all  lands. 

The  number  of  new  investigations  which  were  published 
after  the  appearance  of  the  Physiologische  Optik,  and  called 
forth  by  that  work,  made  a  new  edition  of  the  book  desi- 
rable long  ago.  The  author  had,  however,  in  the  mean- 
time turned  to  other  spheres  of  investigation,  as  that  of 
electro-dynamics,  and  it  was  not  astonishing  that  he  decided 
only  lately  upon  it,  when  it  was  no  longer  possible  for 
him  to  give  due  attention  to  the  large  amount  of  material 
at  hand.  The  successive  parts  of  this  work  followed  each 
other  at  ever  lengthening  intervals  of  time.  The  serious 
misfortune  which  befel  the  aged  investigator  last  autumn 
upon  his  homeward  journey  from  America  urged  him  more- 
over to  a  careful  husbanding  of  his  strength,  and  so  made  it 
possible  that  he  should  allow  the  last  portion  of  the  work, 
which  includes  the  discussion  of  contrast-phenomena,  to 
appear  with  no  reference  to  Hering's  labors  in  this  sphere. 
This  will  always  be  most  deeply  regretted.  The  half  of  the 
work  which  still  remains  unpublished  will  have  to  be  simply 
reprinted,  only  perhaps  with  a  revision  of  the  bibliographical 

The  second  psycho-physical  work,  Lehre  von  den  Ton- 
empfindungen,  was  published  in  1863,  during  one  of  the  inter- 
vals in  the  publication  of  the  several  parts  of  his  first  work. 
Studies  extending  through  many  years  had  preceded  also  in 
this  field,  some  of  which  were  already  published,  Ueber 
Klangfarbe  der  Vocale,  Ueber  Combinationstone,  etc.,  also  the 
popular  lecture  upon  « Physiological  Causes  of  Musical  Har- 
mony,' 1857,  m  which  the  outlines  of  the  whole  work  were 
sketched.  One  can  hardly  picture  the  immense  intel- 
lectual labor  which  the  carrying  out  of  two  such  literary 
projects  simultaneously  must  have  involved.  However,  the 
problems  in  the  theory  of  sensation  were  reciprocally  illumi- 

10  C.   STUMPF. 

nated,  and  it  was  precisely  the  similarity  of  the  phenomena 
in  the  two  spheres  which  led  Helmholtz  to  the  common 
view-point  already  mentioned  above.  It  was  during  the  at- 
tractive period  of  the  days  of  Bonn  and  Heidelberg  that,  as 
he  himself  afterwards  related,  while  leisurely  tramping  over 
the  wooded  hills,  these  ideas  flowed  in  upon  his  mind. 

Indeed  this  second  work  seems,  externally  in  the  form  of 
its  presentation,  to  betray  the  influence  of  such  a  happy  mood 
and  friendly  environment.  It  not  only  treats  of  the  funda- 
mental principles  of  art,  but  is  itself  truly  a  work  of  art, 
and  that,  too,  without  any  flowers  of  rhetoric.  It  is  confined 
to  the  simple  unfolding  of  the  absolutely  essential  features 
of  the  subject.  His  mightiest  weapon,  the  mathematical 
calculations  and  the  deductions  from  previously  published 
computations,  was  relegated  to  the  Appendix.  In  the  text 
itself  only  the  manifest  principles  of  the  theory  are  presented 
to  the  reader ;  he  is  led  step  by  step  from  the  simplest  truths 
of  physical  acoustics  to  their  physiological  conditions,  until 
finally,  deep  in  the  center  of  the  system,  he  is  brought  to  the 
consideration  of  the  musical  scales  and  harmony,  and  over 
the  threshold  into  the  aesthetics  of  music.  Here  the  author 
deliberately  stops. 

In  Acoustics,  too,  the  achievements  of  Helmholtz  were 
not  creations  out  of  nothing.  The  illustrious  labors  of  others 
preceded  them — -especially  Fourier's  demonstration  of  the 
possibility  of  resolving  any  periodic  vibration  into  a  number 
of  simple  harmonic  vibrations;  Ohm's  definition  of  simple 
tones  by  means  of  harmonic  vibrations,  and  his  corres- 
pondence with  Seebeck  (in  which  Ohm  approached  very  near 
to  the  correct  explanation  of  timbre);  Seebeck's  theory  of 
sympathetic  vibrations ;  Wilhelm  Weber's  investigations  con- 
cerning reed-pipes;  Joh.  Miiller's  experimental  studies  upon 
vibrating  membranes  and  the  human  voice ;  Chladni's  care- 
taking  observations,  and  finally  on  the  side  of  the  theory 
of  music,  Rameau's  application  of  the  overtone  to  the 
theory  of  harmony.  That  the  application  of  the  theory 
of  beats  in  the  preceding  century  for  a  similar  purpose 
had  already  been  attempted,  was  probably  not  known 


to  Helmholtz.  But  he  was  familiar  with  the  the  hypothe- 
sis of  an  isolation  of  tones  in  the  cochlea  held  by  many 
physiologists .  of  the  preceding  decade,  and  Harless  in 
Wagner's  Dictionary  had  in  fact  treated  the  organ  of 
Corti  accordingly.  There  is,  however,  a  vast  difference  be- 
tween the  expression  of  a  thought  in  general  terms  and  the 
presenting  of  it  in  its  concrete  setting  or  in  its  connection 
with  a  mass  of  facts,  and  it  is  a  long  way  from  eminent  labors 
along  single  lines  and  from  a  one-sided  standpoint,  to  the 
comprehensive,  all  around  investigation  of  this  entire  field, 
which  inspected  all  sides  of  the  problem  impartially,  and 
went  even  into  the  depths  of  the  history  of  music.  The 
work  has  passed  through  four  editions.  Owing  to  the  com- 
paratively small  number  of  subsequent  works,  as  well  as  to 
the  almost  universal  acquiescence  in  his  opinions,  it  was  pos- 
sible to  satisfy  the  demand  for  new  editions  without  too  great 
difficulty.  The  most  essential  changes  concerned  the  signi- 
ficance of  the  organ  of  Corti  (from  the  first  to  the  second 
edition)  and  the  theory  of  the  psychological  conditions  of 
tone-analysis  (from  the  third  to  the  fourth  edition).  It  seems 
almost  a  pity  to  have  to  acknowledge  that  even  this  mag- 
nificently constructed  work  will  not  in  all  its  main  features 
defy  the  ravages  of  time.  This  is,  however,  my  firm  convic- 
tion. The  explanation  of  timbre,  that  old  riddle,  will,  how- 
ever, remain  a  permanent  acquisition.  But  whether  it  was 
correct  to  deduce  timbre  and  consonance  from  one  and  the 
same  principle,  that  of  the  overtones,  and  to  define  disso- 
nance by  means  of  beats,  that  is  the  chief  question. 

What  human  achievement,  however,  can  defy  time  and 
know  no  change?  Considerations  of  a  critical  nature  will 
not  disturb  the  satisfaction  with  which  we  feel  that  our 
century  has  beheld  an  immense  advance  of  science,  and  that 
we  ourselves  were  contemporaries  of  the  man  who  accom- 
plished it.  Only  in  the  last  few  months  has  it  been  the 
privilege  of  the  writer  of  these  lines  to  know  him.  Whoever 
has  been  thus  fortunate  will  always  hold  in  lively  remem- 
brance the  massive  head,  the  large,  thoughtful  eyes,  the 
repose  of  manner,  the  modest  and  unpretentious  bearing. 

12  C.   STUMPF. 

But  we  shall  always  retain  as  his  most  valuable  legacy  the 
inseparable  union  of  scientific  and  philosophical  research, 
and  the  profound  conception  of  the  mental  life,  grounded 
throughout  upon  actual  facts,  and  for  that  very  reason  the 
loftier  and  more  truly  ideal.* 

*  Translated   from   the   author's   manuscript  by   Professor  John  Grier   Hibben,. 
Princeton  College. 



University  of  Chicago. 

In  a  preceding  article l  I  endeavored  to  show  that  all  the 
so-called  expressions  of  emotion  are  to  be  accounted  for  not 
by  reference  to  emotion,  but  by  reference  to  movements 
having  some  use,  either  as  direct  survivals  or  as  disturb- 
ances of  teleological  coordinations.  I  tried  to  show  that, 
upon  this  basis,  the  various  principles  for  explaining  emo- 
tional attitudes  may  be  reduced  to  certain  obvious  and  typi- 
cal differentia  within  the  teleological  movements.  In  the 
present  paper  I  wish  to  reconsider  the  James-Lange,  or  dis- 
charge, theory  of  the  nature  of  emotion  from  the  standpoint 
thus  gained ;  for  if  all  emotions  (considered  as  '  emotional 
seizures,'  Affect*  or  'feel,'  as  I  may  term  it)  are  constituted 
by  the  reflexion  of  the  teleological  attitude,  the  motor  and 
organic  discharges,  into  consciousness,  the  same  princi- 
ple which  explains  the  attitude  must  serve  to  analyze  the 

The  fact,  if  it  be  a  fact,  that  all  '  emotional  expression ' 
is  a  phase  of  movements  teleologically  determined,  and  not  a 
result  of  pre-existent  emotion,  is  itself  a  strong  argument  for 
the  discharge  theory.  I  had  occasion  to  point  out  in  my  pre- 
vious article  that  the  facts  brought  under  the  head  of  «  antith- 
esis '  and  <  analogous  stimuli '  are  absolutely  unaccountable 
upon  the  central  theory,  and  are  matters  of  course  upon  the 
James  theory.  But  this  statement  may  be  further  general- 
ized. If  every  emotional  attitude  is  referred  to  useful  acts, 
and  if  the  emotion  is  not  the  reflex  of  such  act,  where  does 

1  PSYCHOLOGICAL  REVIEW,  Nov.,  1894. 
'See  this  REVIEW,  Sept.,  1894,  p.  523. 



it  come  in,  and  what  is  its  relation  to  the  attitude?  The 
first  half  of  the  hypothesis  prevents  its  being  the  antecedent 
of  the  attitude ;  the  latter  half  of  the  hypothesis  precludes 
its  being  the  consequent.  If  it  is  said  that  the  emotion  is  a 
mere  side  issue  of  that  central  excitation  (corresponding  to 
the  purpose)  which  issues  in  the  muscular  and  organic 
changes,  then  we  are  entitled  to  ask,  a  priori,  for  some 
explanation  of  its  unique  appearance  at  this  point,  some  sort 
of  mechanical  or  teleological  causa  essendi ;  and,  a  posteriori, 
to  point  out  that,  as  matter  of  fact,  every  one  now  supposes 
that  his  emotion,  say  of  anger,  does  have  some  kind  of  direct 
relation  to  his  movements — in  fact,  common  usage  compels 
us  to  speak  of  them  as  movements  of  anger.  I  think,  then, 
that  logic  fairly  demands  either  the  surrender  of  the  *  central ' 
theory  of  emotion  or  else  a  refutation  of  the  argument  of 
the  preceding  paper,  and  a  proof  that  emotional  attitudes 
are  to  be  explained  by  reference  to  emotion,  and  not  by 
reference  to  acts. 

More  positively,  this  reference  to  serviceable  movement 
in  explanation  of  emotional  attitudes,  taken  in  connection 
with  the  hypothesis  that  the  emotional  « feel '  is  always  due 
to  the  return  wave  of  this  attitude,  supplies  a  positive  tool 
for  the  analysis  of  emotion  in  general  and  of  particular  emo- 
tions in  especial.  As  indicating  the  need  of  a  further  con- 
sideration, it  may  be  pointed  out  that  Mr.  James  himself  lays 
the  main  emphasis  of  his  theory  upon  its  ability  to  account 
for  the  origin  of  emotions,  and  as  supplying  emotion  with  a 
'physical  basis,'  not  upon  the  psychological  analysis  which 
it  might  yield  of  the  nature  of  emotional  experience.  Indeed, 
James  definitely  relegates  to  the  background  the  question  of 
classification,1  saying  that  the  question  of  genesis  becomes 
all-important.  But  every  theory  of  genesis  must  become  a 
method  of  analysis  and  classification.  The  discharge  theory 
does,  indeed,  give  the  coup  de  grace  to  the  fixed  pigeon-hole 
method  of  classification,  but  it  opens  the  door  for  the  genetic 
classification.  In  other  words,  it  does  for  the  emotions  pre- 
cisely what  the  theory  of  evolution  does  in  biology ;  it  de- 
stroys the  arbitrary  and  subjective  schemes,  based  on  mere 

1  Psychology,  Vol.  II.,  p.  454  and  p.  485. 


possession  of  likenesses  and  differences,  and  points  to  an  ob- 
jective and  dynamic  classification  based  on  descent  from  a 
given  functional  activity,  gradually  differentiated  according 
to  the  demands  of  the  situation.  The  general  conclusion 
indicated  regarding  the  nature  of  emotion  is  that : 

Emotion  in  its  entirety  is  a  mode  of  behavior  which  is 
purposive,  or  has  an  intellectual  content,  and  which  also 
reflects  itself  into  feeling  or  Affects,  as  the  subjective  valua- 
tion of  that  which  is  objectively  expressed  in  the  idea  or 

This  formula,  however,  is  no  more  than  a  putting  together 
of  James'  theory  with  the  revision  of  Darwin's  principles 
attempted  in  the  last  number.  If  an  attitude  (of  emotion)  is 
the  recurrence,  in  modified  form,  of  some  teleological  move- 
ment, and  if  the  specific  differentia  of  emotional  consciousness 
is  the  resonance  of  such  attitude,  then  emotional  excitation  is 
the  felt  process  of  realization  of  ideas.  The  chief  interest 
lies  in  making  this  formula  more  specific. 

In  the  first  place,  this  mode  of  getting  at  it  relieves  Mr. 
James's  statement  of  the  admittedly  paradoxical  air  which 
has  surrounded  it.  I  can  but  think  that  Mr.  James'  critics 
have  largely  made  their  own  difficulties,  even  on  the  basis  of 
his  '  slap-dash  '  statement  that  "  we  feel  sorry  because  we  cry, 
angry  because  we  strike,  afraid  because  we  tremble."  The 
very  statement  brings  out  the  idea  of  feeling  sorry,  not  of 
being  sorry.  On  p.  452  (Vol.  II)  he  expressly  refers  to  his 
task  as  "  subtracting  certain  elements  of  feeling  from  an  emo- 
tional state  supposed  to  exist  in  its  fulness "  (italics  mine). 
And  in  his  article  in  this  REVIEW  (Sept.,  1894),  he  definitely 
states  that  he  is  speaking  of  an  Affect^  or  emotional  seizure. 
By  this  I  understand  him  to  mean  that  he  is  not  dealing  with 

1  In  my  Psychology,  e.g.,  p.  19  and  pp.  246-249,  it  is  laid  down,  quite  schematic- 
ally, that  feeling  is  the  internalizing  of  activity  or  will.  There  is  nothing  novel  in 
the  doctrine  ;  in  a  way  it  goes  back  to  Plato  and  Aristotle.  But  what  first  fixed  my  espe- 
cial attention,  I  believe,  upon  James'  doctrine  of  emotion  was  that  it  furnishes  this  old 
idealistic  conception  of  feeling,  hitherto  blank  and  unmediated,  with  a  medium  of 
translation  into  the  terms  of  concrete  phenomena.  I  mention  this  bit  of  personal  his- 
tory simply  as  an  offset  to  those  writers  who  have  found  Mr.  James'  conception  so 
tainted  with  materialism.  On  the  historical  side,  it  may  be  worth  noting  that  a  crude 
anticipation  of  James'  theory  is  found  in  Hegel's  Philosophie  des  Geistes,  §  401. 

1 6  JOHN  DE  WE  Y. 

emotion  as  a  concrete  whole  of  experience,  but  with  an  abstrac- 
tion from  the  actual  emotion  of  that  element  which  gives  it 
its  differentia — its  feeling  quale,  its  *  feel.'  As  I  understand 
it,  he  did  not  conceive  himself  as  dealing  with  that  state 
which  we  term  'being  angry,'  but  rather  with  the  peculiar 
'  feel '  which  any  one  has  when  he  is  angry,  an  element  which 
may  be  intellectually  abstracted,  but  certainly  has  no  exist- 
ence by  itself,  or  as  full-fledged  emotion-experience. 

What  misled  Mr.  James'  critics,  I  think,  was  not  so  much 
his  language,  as  it  was  the  absence  of  all  attempts  on  his  part 
to  connect  the  emotional  seizure  with  the  other  phases  of  the 
concrete  emotion-experience.  What  the  whole  condition  of 
being  angry,  or  hopeful  or  sorry  may  be,  Mr.  James  nowhere 
says,  nor  does  he  indicate  why  or  how  the  '  feel '  of  anger  is 
related  to  them.  Hence  the  inference  either  that  he  is  con- 
sidering the  whole  emotion-experience  in  an  inadequate  way, 
or  else — as  Mr.  Irons  took  it — that  he  is  denying  the  very 
existence  of  emotion,  reducing  it  to  mere  consciousness  of 
bodily  change  as  such.  Certainly,  even  when  we  have  ad- 
mitted that  the  emotional  differentia,  or  'feel',  is  the  reverber- 
ation of  organic  changes  following  upon  the  motor  response 
to  stimulus,  we  have  still  to  place  this  '  feel '  with  reference 
to  the  other  phases  of  the  concrete  emotion-experience. 
'  Common  sense '  and  psychological  sense  revolt  at  the  sup- 
posed implication  that  the  emotional  «  feel '  which  constitutes 
so  much  of  the  meaning  of  our  lives  is  a  chance  arrival,  or  a 
chance  super-imposition  from  certain  organic  changes  which 
happen  to  be  going  on.  It  is  this  apparently  arbitrary  isola- 
tion which  offends. 

If,  preparatory  to  attempting  such  a  placing,  we  put 
before  us  the  whole  concrete  emotional  experience,  we  find, 
I  think,  that  it  has  two  phases  beside  that  of  Affect,  or  seizure, 
(i)  It  is  a  disposition,  a  mode  of  conduct,  a  way  of  behaving. 
Indeed,  it  is  this  practical  aspect  of  emotion  which  common 
speech  mainly  means  to  refer  to  in  its  emotional  terms. 
When  we  say  that  John  Smith  is  very  resentful  at  the  treat- 
ment he  has  received,  or  is  hopeful  of  success  in  business,  or 
regrets  that  he  accepted  a  nomination  for  office,  we  do  not 
simply,  or  even  chiefly,  mean  that  he  has  a  certain  <  feel ' 


occupying  his  consciousness.  We  mean  he  is  in  a  certain 
practical  attitude,  has  assumed  a  readiness  to  act  in  certain 
ways.  I  should  not  fear  a  man  who  had  simply  the  «  feel '  of 
anger,  nor  should  I  sympathize  with  one  having  simply  the 
« feel '  of  grief.1  Grief  means  unwillingness  to  resume  the 
normal  occupation,  practical  discouragement,  breaking-up 
of  the  normal  reactions,  etc.,  etc.  Just  as  anger  means  a 
tendency  to  explode  in  a  sudden  attack,  not  a  mere  state 
of  feeling.  We  certainly  do  not  deny  nor  overlook  the 
4  feel '  phase,  but  in  ordinary  speech  the  behavior  side  of 
emotion  is,  I  think,  always  uppermost  in  consciousness. 
The  connotation  of  emotion  is  primarily  ethical,  only  sec- 
ondarily psychical.  Hence  our  insulted  feeling  when  told  (as 
we  hastily  read  it — our  interpretation  is  '  slap-dash '  rather 
than  the  sentence  itself)  that  we  are  not  angry  until  we  strike, 
for  the  sudden  readiness  to  injure  another  is  precisely  what 
we  mean  by  anger.  Let  the  statement  read  that  we  do  not 
have  the  emotional  seizure,  the*  «  feel '  of  anger,  till  we  strike, 
or  clench  our  fist,  or  have  our  blood  boil,  &c.,  and  the  state- 
ment not  only  loses  its  insultingly  paradoxical  quality,  but 
(unless  my  introspection  meets  a  different  scene  from  that  of 
others)  is  verified  by  every  passing  emotion.  (2)  But  the 
full  emotional  experience  also  always  has  its  '  object'  or  intel- 
lectual content.  The  emotion  is  always  «  about '  or  «  toward  ' 
something ;  it  is  «  at '  or  «  on  account  of '  something,  and  this 
prepositional  reference  is  an  integral  phase  of  the  single 
pulse  of  emotion ;  for  emotion,  as  well  as  the  idea,  comes 
as  a  whole  carrying  its  distinctions  of  value  within  it.  The 
child  who  ceases  to  be  angry  at  something — were  it  only  the 
floor  at  last — but  who  keeps  up  his  kicking  and  screaming, 
has  passed  over  into  sheer  spasm.  It  is  then  no  more  an 
emotion  of  anger  than  it  is  one  of  aesthetic  appreciation.  Dis- 

1 1  take  it  that  this  separation  of  '  feel '  from  practical  attitude  is  precisely  what 
makes  the  difference  between  an  emotional  and  a  sentimental  experience.  The  fact  that 
the  '  feel '  may  be  largely,  though  never  wholly,  simulated,  by  arousing  certain  organic 
excitations  apart  from  the  normal  practical  readiness  to  behave  in  a  certain  way,  has 
played  a  sufficiently  large  part  in  our  '  evangelical '  religions.  The  depth,  in  a  way, 
and  the  hollowness,  in  another  way,  of  the  subjectively  induced  religious  sentiments 
seems  to  me,  in  itself,  a  most  admirable  illustration  of  the  truth  of  James*  main  con- 


gust,  terror,  gratitude,  sulkiness,  curiosity — take  all  the 
emotions  seriatim  and  see  what  they  would  be  without  the 
intrinsic  reference  to  idea  or  object.  Even  the  pathological 
or  objectless  emotion  is  so  only  to  the  rational  spectator.  To 
the  experiencer  (if  I  may  venture  the  term)  it  subsumes  at 
once  its  own  object  as  source  or  aim.  This  feeling  of  depres- 
sion must  have  its  reason ;  the  world  is  dark  and  gloomy  ;  no 
one  understands  me ;  I  have  a  dread  disease ;  I  have  commit- 
ted the  unpardonable  sin.  This  feeling  of  buoyancy  must 
have  its  ideal  reference;  I  am  a  delightful  person,  or  one  of 
the  elect  or  have  had  a  million  dollars  left  me.1 

It  is  perhaps  at  this  point  that  the  need  of  some  recon- 
struction which  will  enable  us  to  place  the  phases  of  an  entire 
emotional  experience  becomes  most  urgent.  In  Mr.  James' 
statement  the  experience  is  apparently  (apparently,  I  say ;  I 
do  not  know  how  much  is  due  to  the  exigency  of  discussion 
which  necessitates  a  seeming  isolation)  split  up  into  three 
separate  parts :  First  comes  the  object  or  idea  which  operates 
only  as  stimulus ;  secondly,  the  mode  of  behavior  taken  as 
discharge  of  this  stimulus ;  third,  the  Affect,  or  emotional  exci- 
tation, as  the  repercussion  of  this  discharge.  No  such  seriality 
or  separation  attaches  to  the  emotion  as  an  experience.  Nor 
does  reflective  analysis  seem  to  establish  this  order  as  the 
best  expression  of  the  emotion  as  an  object  of  psychological 
abstraction.  We  might  almost  infer  from  the  way  Mr. 
James  leaves  it  that  he  is  here  a  believer  in  that  atomic  or 
mosaic  composition  of  consciousness  which  he  has  so  effec- 
tively dealt  with  in  the  case  of  intellectual  consciousness. 
However  this  may  be,  Mr.  James  certainly  supplies  us,  in  the 
underlying  motif  of  this  «  chapter'  on  emotion,  with  an  ade- 
quate instrument  of  reconstruction.  This  is  the  thought  that 
the  organic  discharge  is  an  instinctive  reaction,  not  a  response 
to  an  idea  as  such. 

Following  the  lead  of  this  idea,  we  are  easily  brought  to 
the  conclusion  that  the  mode  of  behavior  is  the  primary  thing, 
and  that  the  idea  and  the  emotional  excitation  are  constituted  at 
one  and  the  same  time  ;  that,  indeed,  they  represent  the  tension 

1  I  do  not  .nean,  of  course,  that  every  '  pathological '  emotion  creates  an  intellec- 
tual delusion  ;  but  it  does  carry  with  it  a  changed  intellectual  coloring,  a  different 
direction  of  attention. 


of  stimulus  and  response  within   the  coordination   which  makes 
up  the  mode  of  behavior. 

It  is  sheer  reflective  interpretation  to  say  that  the  activity 
in  anger  is  set  up  by  the  object,  if  we  by  object  mean  some- 
thing consciously  apprehended  as  object.  This  interpreta- 
tion, if  we  force  it  beyond  a  mere  way  of  speaking  into  the 
facts  themselves,  becomes  a  case  of  the  psychological  fallacy. 
If  my  bodily  changes  of  beating  heart,  trembling  and  run- 
ning legs,  sinking  in  stomach,  looseness  of  bowels,  etc.,  fol- 
low from  and  grow  out  of  the  conscious  recognition,  qua 
conscious  recognition,  of  a  bear,  then  I  see  no  way  for  it  but 
that  the  bear  is  already  a  bear  of  which  we  are  afraid — our 
idea  must  be  of  the  bear  as  a  fearful  object.  But  if  (as  Mr. 
James'  fundamental  idea  would  imply,  however  his  lan- 
guage may  read  at  times)  this  reaction  is  not  to  the  bear  as 
object,  nor  to  the  idea  of  bear,  but  simply  expresses  an  in- 
stinctive coordination  of  two  organic  tendencies,  then  the 
case  is  quite  different.  It  is  not  the  idea  of  the  bear,  or  the 
bear  as  object,  but  a  certain  act  of  seeing,  which  by  habit, 
whether  inherited  or  acquired,  sets  up  other  acts.  It  is  the 
kind  of  coordination  of  acts  which,  brought  to  sensational  con- 
sciousness, constitutes  the  bear  a  fearful  or  a  laughable  or 
an  indifferent  object.  The  following  sentence,  for  example,, 
from  James  (this  REVIEW,  Vol.  I.  p.  518)  seems  to  involve  a 
mixture  of  his  own  theory  with  the  one  which  he  is  engaged 
in  combatting:  "  Whatever  be  our  reaction  on  the  situation,, 
in  the  last  resort  it  is  an  instinctive  reaction  on  that  one  of  its 
elements  which  strikes  us  for  the  time  being  as  most  vitally  im- 
portant." The  conception  of  an  instinctive  reaction  is  the  rele- 
vant idea;  that  of  reaction  upon  an  element  « which  strikes 
us  as  important'  the  incongruous  idea.  Does  it  strike  us, 
prior  to  the  reaction,  as  important  ?  Then,  most  certainly, 
it  already  has  emotional  worth ;  the  situation  is  already  de- 
lightful and  to  be  perpetuated,  or  terrible  and  to  be  fled,  or 
whatever.  What  does  recognition  of  importance  mean  aside 
from  the  ascription  of  worth,  value — that  is,  aside  from  the 
projection  of  emotional  experience  ? 1  But  I  do  not  think 

1  It  seems  to  me  that  the  application  of  James'  theory  of  emotion  to  his  theory  of 
attention  would  give  some  very  interesting  results.      As   it   now   stands,   the  theory 

2O  JOHN  DE  WE  Y. 

James'  expression  in  this  and  other  similar  passages  is  to  be 
taken  literally.  The  reaction  is  not  made  on  the  basis  of 
the  apprehension  of  some  quality  in  the  object;  it  is  made 
on  the  basis  of  an  organized  habit,  of  an  organized  coordina- 
tion of  activities,  one  of  which  instinctively  stimulates  the 
other.  The  outcome  of  this  coordination  of  activities  consti- 
tutes, for  the  first  time,  the  object  with  such  and  such  an 
import — terrible,  delightful,  etc. — or  constitutes  an  emotion 
referring  to  such  and  such  an  object.  For,  we  must  insist 
once  more,  the  frightful  object  and  the  emotion  of  fear  are 
two  names  for  the  same  experience. 

Here,  then,  is  our  point  of  departure  in  placing  the 
'feel,'  the  'idea,'  and  the  'mode  of  behavior'  in  relation  to 
one  another.  The  idea  or  object  which  precedes  and  stimu- 
lates the  bodily  discharge  is  in  no  sense  the  idea  or  object 
(the  intellectual  content,  the  '  at '  or  'on  account  of ')  of  the 
emotion  itself.  The  particular  idea,  the  specific  quality  or 
object  to  which  the  seizure  attaches,  is  just  as  much  due  to 
the  discharge  as  is  the  seizure  itself.  More  accurately  and 
definitely,  the  idea  or  the  object  is  an  abstraction  from  the 
activity  just  as  much  as  is  the  '  feel '  or  seizure.  We  have 
certain  organic  activities  initiated,  say  in  the  eye,  stimulating, 
through  organized  paths  of  association  in  the  brain,  certain 
activities  of  hands,  legs,  etc.,  and  (through  the  coordination 
of  these  motor  activities  with  the  vegetative  functions  neces- 
sary to  maintain  them)  of  lungs,  heart,  vaso-motor  system, 
digestive  organs,  etc.  The  '  bear '  is,  psychologically,  just 
as  much  a  discrimination  of  certain  values,  within  this  total 
pulse  or  coordination  of  action,  as  is  the  feeling  of  'fear.' 
The  '  bear '  is  constituted  by  the  excitations  of  eye  and 
coordinated  touch  centres,  just  as  the  '  terror'  is  by  the  dis- 
turbances of  muscular  and  glandular  systems.  The  reality, 
the  coordination  of  these  partial  activities,  is  that  whole 
activity  which  may  be  described  equally  well  as  '  that  terri- 
ble bear,'  or  '  Oh,  how  frightened  I  am.'  It  is  precisely 

4  in  attention '  of  preferential  selection  on  the  basis  of  interest  seems  to  contradict  the 
theory  of  emotional  value  as  the  outcome  of  preferential  selection  (that  is,  specific  reac- 
tion). But  the  contradiction  is  most  flagrant  in  the  case  of  effort,  considered,  first,  as 
emotion  and  then  as  an  operation  of  will. 


and  identically  the  same  actual  concrete  experience;  and 
the  'bear,'  considered  as  one  experience,  and  the  'fright,' 
considered  as  another,  are  distinctions  introduced  in  reflec- 
tion upon  this  experience,  not  separate  experience.  It  is  the 
psychological  fallacy  again  if  the  differences  which  result 
from  the  reflection  are  carried  over  into  the  experience  itself. 
If  the  fright  comes,  then  the  bear  is  not  the  bear  of  that  par- 
ticular experience,  is  not  the  object  to  which  the  feeling 
attaches,  except  as  the  fright  comes.  Any  other  supposition 
is  to  confuse  the  abstract  bear  of  science  with  the  concrete 
(just  this)  bear  of  experience. 

The  point  may  be  further  illustrated  by  the  objection 
which  Mr.  Irons  has  brought  against  the  James  theory. 
(Mind,  1894,  p.  85).  "How  can  one  perceptive  process  of 
itself  suffuse  with  emotional  warmth  the  cold  intellectuality 
of  another?"  Note  here  the  assumption  of  two  distinct 
'processes',  apparently  recognizing  themselves  as  distinct, 
or  anyhow  somehow  marked  out  as  different  in  themselves. 
The  continued  point  of  Mr.  Irons'  objection  is  that  Mr.  James 
makes  intellectual  and  emotional  '  states  ',  (values)  the  knowl- 
edge of  an  object  and  the  emotion  referred  to  it,  both  due  to 
currents  from  the  periphery,  and  the  same  kind  of  current 
cannot  be  supposed  to  induce  such  radically  different  things 
as  an  intellectual  and  an  emotional  process.  The  objection 
entirely  overlooks  the  fact  that  we  have  but  the  one  organic 
pulse,  the  frightful  bear,  the  frightened  man,  whose  reality 
is  the  whole  concrete  coordination  of  eye — leg — heart,  &c., 
activity,  and  that  the  distinction  of  cold  intellectuality  and 
warm  emotionality  is  simply  a  functional  distinction  within 
this  one  whole  of  action.  We  take  a  certain  phase  which  serves 
a  certain  end,  namely,  giving  us  information,  and  call  that  intel- 
lectual ;  we  take  another  phase,  having  another  end  or  value, 
that  of  excitement,  and  call  that  emotional.  But  does  any 
one  suppose  that,  apart  from  oiir  interpretation  of  values,  there 
is  one  process  in  itself  intellectual,  and  another  process  in 
itself  emotional  ?  I  cannot  even  frame  an  idea  of  what  is 
meant.  1  can  see  that  the  eye-touch  process  gives  us  infor- 
mation mainly,  and  so  we  call  that  intellectual ;  and  that  the 
heart-bowels  process  gives  us  the  valuation  of  this  informa- 


tion  in  terms  of  our  own  inner  welfare, — but  aside  from  this 
distinction  of  values  within  a  concrete  whole,  through  reflec- 
tion upon  it,  I  can  see  nothing. 

If,  then,  I  may  paraphrase  Mr.  James'  phraseology,  the 
statement  would  read  as  follows :  Our  customary  analysis, 
reading  over  into  the  experience  itself  what  we  find  by  in- 
terpreting it,1  says  we  have  an  idea  of  the  bear  as  something 
to  be  escaped,  and  so  run  away.  The  hypothesis  here  pro- 
pounded is  that  the  factors  of  a  coordination  (whether  due 
to  inherited  instinct  or  to  individually  acquired  habit)  begin 
to  operate  and  we  run  away ;  running  away,  we  get  the  idea 
of  <  running-away-from-bear ',  or  of  '  bear-as-thing-to-be-run- 
from.'  I  suppose  every  one  would  admit  that  the  complete, 
mature  idea  came  only  in  and  through  the  act  of  running,  but 
might  hold  that  an  embryonic  suggestion  of  running  came 
before  the  running.  I  cannot  disprove  this  position,  but 
everything  seems  to  point  the  other  way.  It  is  more  natural 
to  suppose  that  as  the  full  idea  of  running  away  comes  in 
from  the  full  execution,  so  the  vague  suggestion  comes 
through  the  vague  starting-up-of  the  system,  mediated  by 
discharge  from  the  centres. 

The  idea  of  running  away  must  certainly  involve,  as  part 
of  its  content,  an  excitation  of  the  *  motor-centres '  actually 
concerned  in  running ;  it  would  seem  as  if  this  excitation 
must  involve  some,  however  slight,  innervation  of  the 
peripheral  apparatus  involved  in  the  act.2  What  ground  is 
there  for  supposing  that  the  idea  comes  to  consciousness  save 
through  the  sensorial  return  of  this  peripheral  excitation? 
Is  there  any  conceivable  statement,  either  in  terms  of  intro- 
spection or  of  nervous  structure,  of  an  idea  of  movement 
coming  to  consciousness  absolutely  unmediated  peripher- 
ally? Sensorial  consciousness,  mediated  by  the  incoming 

1  This  is  simply  circumlocution  for  '  common-sense.'  Common-sense  is  practical, 
and  when  we  are  practical  it  is  the  value  of  our  experience,  what  we  can  get  out  of  it 
or  think  we  can,  that  appeals  to  us.  The  last  thing  that  concerns  us  is  the  actual  pro- 
cess of  experiencing,  qua  process.  It  might  almost  be  said  that  the  sole  difficulty  in 
psychology,  upon  the  introspective  side,  is  to  avoid  this  substitution  of  a  practical  in- 
terpretation of  an  experience  for  the  experience  itself. 

*  I  do  not  mean  that  this  innervation  to  consciousness  as  such  ;  on  the  con- 


current,  is  an  undoubted  fact ;  it  is  vera  causa.  Putting  the 
two  hypotheses  side  by  side  simply  as  hypotheses,  surely  the 
logical  advantage  of  economy  and  of  appeal  to  vera  causa  is  on 
the  side  of  the  theory  which  conceives  the  idea  of  movement 
in  terms  of  a  return  of  discharge  wave,  and  against  that 
which  would  make  it  a  purely  central  affair.1 

But  this  is  far  from  being  all.  I  suppose  one  is  fairly 
entitled  now  to  start  from  the  assumption  of  a  sensory-con- 
tinuum, the  «  big,  buzzing,  blooming  confusion/  out  of  which 
particular  sensory  quales  are  differentiated.  Discrimination, 
not  integration,  is  the  real  problem.  In  a  general  way  we 
all  admit  that  it  is  through  attention  that  the  distinctions 
arise,  through  selective  emphasis.  Now  we  may  not  only 
rely  upon  the  growing  feeling  that  attention  is  somehow 
bound  up  with  motor  adjustment  and  reaction,  but  we  can 
point  to  the  specific  facts  of  sensorial  discrimination  which 
show,  that,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  the  range  and  fineness  of  dis- 
crimination run  parallel  to  the  apparatus  for  motor  adjust- 
ments. We  can  also  show  that,  in  the  only  case  in  which 
there  has,  as  yet,  been  a  serious  attempt  to  work  out  the  de- 
tails of  discrimination,  namely,  space  distinctions,  all  hands 
agree  that  they  come  through  motor  adjustments — ^the  ques- 
tion whether  *  muscular '  or  joint  surface  sensations  are  pri- 
mary, having  here  no  importance.  Such  being  the  case, 
how  can  the  particular  stimulus  which  excites  the  discharge 
be  defined  as  this  or  that  object  apart  from  our  reaction  to 
it?  I  do  not  care  to  go  into  the  metaphysics  of  objective 
qualities,  but  dealing  simply  with  the  psychological  recog- 
nition of  such  qualities,  what  basis  or  standard  for  qualita- 
tive definiteness  can  we  have,  save  the  consciousness  of  dif- 
ferences in  our  own  organic  response?  The  bear  may  be  a 

1  There  are  further  logical  grounds  for  expecting  acquiescence  from  those  who  ac- 
cept the  general  standpoint  of  Mr.  James.  To  say  nothing  of  the  insistence  upon  con- 
sciousness as  essentially  reactive  or  motor,  '  idea '  and  emotional  seizure  hang  together. 
Fear-of-bear,  bear-as-fearful-object  cannot  be  separated.  Besides,  when  I  introspect 
for  my  '  fringe '  in  the  stream  of  thought  I  always  find  its  particular  sensorial  basis  in 
shiftings  of  directions  and  quantity  of  breath,  and  other  slight  adjustments,  just  as  cer- 
tainly as  I  always  can  pick  out  the  sensorial  basis  for  my  emotional  seizures.  A  priori, 
it  is  difficult  to  see  what  the  '  fringe '  can  be  save  the  feeling  of  the  running  accompa- 
niment of  aborted  acts,  having  their  value  now  only  as  signs  or  cues,  but  originally 
complete  in  themselves. 


thousand  times  an  individual  entity  or  distinct  object  meta- 
physically, if  you  please ;  you  may  even  suppose,  if  you  will, 
that  the  particular  wave-lengths  which  deflect  from  the  bear, 
somehow  sort  themselves  out  from  the  wave-lengths  coming 
from  all  the  rest  of  the  environment,  and  come  to  the  brain 
as  a  distinct  bundle  or  package  by  themselves — but  the  rec- 
ognition of  just  this  object  out  of  the  multitude  of  possible 
objects,  of  just  this  bundle  of  vibrations  out  of  all  the  other 
bundles,  still  remains  to  be  accounted  for.  The  predominat- 
ing motor  response  supplies  the  conditions  for  its  objectifi- 
cation,  or  selection.  There  is  no  competing  hypothesis  of 
any  other  machinery  even  in  the  field. 

We  return,  then,  confirmed,  to  our  belief  that  the  mode 
of  behavior,  or  coordination  of  activities,  constitutes  the 
ideal  content  of  emotion  just  as  much  as  it  does  the  Affect  or 
'feel',  and  that  the  distinction  of  these  two  is  not  given  in 
the  experience  itself,  but  simply  in  reflection  upon  the  expe- 
rience. The  mode  of  action  constituted  by  the  organic  co- 
ordination of  certain  sensori-motor  (or  ideo-motor)  activities, 
on  one  side,  and  of  certain  vegetative-motor  activities  on  the 
other,  is  the  reality,  and  this  reality  has  a  value,  which, 
when  interpreted,  we  call  intellectual,  and  a  value  which, 
when  interpreted  we  call  Affect,  or  'feel'.  In  the  terms  of 
our  illustration,  the  mode  of  behavior  carried  with  it  the 
concept  of  the  bear  as  a  thing  to  be  acted  towards  in  a  cer- 
tain way,  and  of  the  <  feel '  of  our  reaction.  It  is  brown  and 
chained — a  <  beautiful '  object  to  be  looked  at.  It  is  soft  and 
fluffy — an  '  aesthetic '  object  to  be  felt  of.  It  is  tame  and 
clumsy — an  'amusing'  object  to  while  away  time  with.  It 
is  hungry  and  angry — and  is  a  «  ferocious '  object  to  be  fled. 
The  consciousness  of  our  mode  of  behavior  as  affording  data 
for  other  possible  actions  constitutes  the  bear  an  objective  or 
ideal  content.  The  consciousness  of  the  mode  of  behavior 

as  something  in  itself — the  looking,  petting,  running,  etc. 

constitutes  the  emotional  seizure.  In  all  concrete  experience 
of  emotion  these  two  phases  are  organically  united  in  a 
single  pulse  of  consciousness. 

It  follows  from  this  that  all  emotion,  as  excitation,  in- 
volves inhibition.     This  is  not  absolute  inhibition ;    it  is  not 


suppression  or  displacement.  It  is  incidental  to  the  coordi- 
nation. The  two  factors  of  the  coordination,  the  '  exciting 
stimulus '  and  the  excited  response,  have  to  be  adjusted,  and 
the  period  of  adjustment  required  to  affect  the  coordination, 
marks  the  inhibition  of  each  required  to  effect  its  reconstruc- 
tion as  an  integral  part  of  the  whole  act.  Or,  since  we  have 
recognized  that  the  exciting  stimulus  does  not  exist  as  fact, 
or  object,  until  constituted  such  by  the  coordination  in  the 
final  act,  let  us  say  that  the  activities  needing  adjustment,  and 
so  partial  inhibition,  are  the  kinaesthetic  (sensori-motor  or 
ideo-motor)  activities  which  translate  themselves  into  the 
'object',  and  the  vegetative-motor  activities  which  consti- 
tute the  '  reaction  '  or  <  response  '  to  the  *  object '. 

But  here,  again,  in  order  to  avoid  getting  on  the  wrong 
track  it  must  be  noted  that  this  distinction  of  '  object '  and 
'  response '  is  one  of  interpretation,  or  value,  and  not  a  plain 
matter  of  course  difference  in  the  experiencing.  I  have 
already  tried  to  show  that  the  '  object '  itself  is  an  organic 
excitation  on  the  sensori-motor,  or,  mediately,  ideo-motor 
side,  and  that  it  is  not  the  peculiar  object  of  the  emotion  un- 
til the  mode  of  behavior  sets  in,  and  the  diffusive  wave  re- 
percussates  in  consciousness.  But  it  is  equally  necessary  to 
recognize  that  the  very  distinction  between  exciting  or  stim- 
ulating sensori-motor  activity  and  excited  or  responding 
vegetative-motor  activity  is  teleological  and  not  merely  fact- 
ual. It  is  because  these  two  activities  have  to  be  coordin- 
ated in  a  single  act,  to  accomplish  a  single  end,  and  have 
therefore  to  be  so  adjusted  as  to  cooperate  with  each  other, 
that  they  present  themselves  as  stimulus  and  response. 
When  we  consider  one  activity,  say  the  sensori-ideo-motor 
activity,  which  constructs  or  constitutes  the  bear  as  an  « ob- 
ject', not  in  itself,  but  from  the  standpoint  of  the  final  act 
into  which  it  merges — the  stopping  to  took  at  the  bear  and 
study  it  scientifically,  or  enjoy  its  clumsy  movements — that 
activity  takes  the  form  of  stimulus.  So  the  vegetative-motor 
activity,  which  is,  in  itself  as  direct  experience,  simply  the 
intrinsic  organic  continuation  of  the  sensori-motor  activity, 
being  interpreted  again  as  a  reduced  factor  of,  or  contribu- 
tion to,  the  final  outcome,  assumes  the  form  of  response. 


But,  I  repeat,  this  distinction  of  stimulus  and  response  is  one 
of  interpretation,  and  of  interpretation  from  the  standpoint 
of  the  value  of  some  act  considered  as  an  accomplished  end. 

The  positive  truth  is  that  the  prior  and  the  succeeding 
parts  of  an  activity  are  in  operation  together ;  that  the  prior 
activity  beside  passing  over  into  the  succeeding  also  persists 
by  itself,  and  yet  that  the  necessary  act  cannot  be  performed 
until  these  two  activities  reinforce  each  other,  or  become 
contributing  factors  to  a  unified  deed.  The  period  of  max- 
imum emotional  seizure  corresponds  to  this  period  of  adjust- 
ment. If  we  look  at  the  deflection  or  reconstruction  which 
either  side  undergoes  during  this  adjustment,  we  shall  call 
it  inhibition — it  is  arrest  of  discharge  which  the  activity 
would  perform,  if  existing  by  itself.  If  we  look  at  the  final 
outcome,  the  completed  adjustment,  we  have  coordination. 

I  think  it  must  be  obvious  that  this  account  in  no  way 
runs  athwart  Mr.  James*  denial  of  inhibition  as  a  necessary 
phase  of  the  Affect  (Psychology,  Vol.  II.,  p.  476,  note).  He 
there  speaks  of  inhibition  as  if  it  could  mean  only  complete 
suppression — which  is  no  inhibition  at  all,  psychologically, 
since  with  suppression  or  displacement,  all  tension  vanishes. 
It  is,  indeed,  a  question  of  primary  impulsive  tendencies,  but 
of  these  tendencies  as  conflicting  with  one  another  and  there- 
fore mutually  checking,  at  least  temporarily,  one  another. 
Acts,  which  in  past  times,  have  been  complete  activities,  now 
present  themselves  as  contemporaneous  phases  of  one  activity. 
In  so  far  as  they  were  once  each  complete  in  itself,  there  is 
struggle  of  each  to  absorb  or  negate  the  other.  This  must 
either  occur  or  else  there  is  a  readjustment  and  a  new  whole, 
or  coordination,  appears,  they  now  being  contributory  fac- 
tors. The  inhibition  once  worked  out,  whether  by  displace- 
ment of  one  or  by  reconstruction  of  both  contending  factors, 
the  Affect  dies  out. 

This  sort  of  inhibition  the  James  theory  not  only  permits, 
but  demands — otherwise  the  whole  relation  between  the  ex- 
citing stimulus  and  the  instinctive  response,  which  is  the 
nerve  of  the  theory,  disappears.  If  the  exciting  stimulus 
does  not  persist  over  into  the  excited  response,  we  get  sim- 
ply a  case  of  habit.  The  familiar  fact  that  emotion  as  excite- 


ment  disappears  with  definiteness  of  habit  simply  means  that 
in  so  far  as  one  activity  serves  simply  as  means,  or  cue,  to 
another  and  gives  way  at  once  to  it,  there  is  no  basis  for 
conflict  and  for  inhibition.  But  if  the  stimulating  and  the 
induced  activities  need  to  be  coordinated  together,  if  they 
are  both  means  contributing  to  one  and  the  same  end,  then 
the  conditions  for  mere  habit  are  denied,  and  some  struggle, 
with  incidental  inhibitory  deflection  of  the  immediate  activ- 
ity, sets  in.  In  psychological  terms,  this  tension  is  always 
between  the  activity  which  constitutes,  when  interpreted, 
the  object  as  an  intellectual  content,  and  that  which  consti- 
tutes the  response  or  mode  of  dealing  with  it.  There  is  the 
one  phase  of  organic  activity  which  constitutes  the  bear  as 
object;  there  is  the  other  which  would  attack  it,  or  run 
away  from  it,  or  stand  one's  ground  before  it.  If  these 
two  coordinate  without  friction,  or  if  one  immediately  dis- 
places the  other,  there  is  no  emotional  seizure.  If  they  co- 
exist, both  pulling  apart  as  complete  in  themselves  and  pull- 
ing together  as  parts  of  a  new  whole,  there  is  great  emo- 
tional excitement.1  It  is  this  tension  which  makes  it  impos- 
sible to  describe  any  emotion  whatever  without  using  dual 
terms — one  for  the  Affect  itself,  the  other  for  the  object  '  at ', 
*  towards,'  or  «  on  account  of,'  which  it  is. 

We  may  now  connect  this  analysis  with  the  result  of  the 
consideration  of  the  emotional  attitudes.  The  attitude  is 
precisely  that  which  was  a  complete  activity  once,  but  is  no 
longer  so.  The  activity  of  seizing  prey  or  attacking  an 
enemy,  a  movement  having  its  meaning  in  itself,  is  now  re- 
duced or  aborted ;  it  is  an  attitude  simply.  As  an  instinctive 
reaction  it  is  thoroughly  ingrained  in  the  system ;  it  repre- 
sents the  actual  coordinations  of  thousands  and  thousands  of 

1  See  James,  II.,  496-497.  But  more  particularly  I  should  apply  to  the  difference 
between  relatively  indifferent  and  emotionally  excited  consciousness  precisely  what 
James  says  of  the  difference  between  habitual  and  reasoned  thinking.  (II.,  p.  366.) 
"  In  the  former,  an  entire  system  of  cells  vibrating  at  any  one  moment  discharges  in 
its  totality  into  another  system,  the  order  of  the  discharges  tends  to  be  a  constant  one 
in  time  ;  whilst  in  the  latter  a  part  of  the  prior  system  still  keeps  vibrating  in  the  midst 
of  the  subsequent  system,  and  the  order  .  .  .  has  little  tendency  to  fixedness  in  time." 
Add  to  this  that  it  is  necessary  to  perform  a  unified  act — or  reconstitute  a  single,  com- 
prehensive system,  and  the  reality  (though  strictly  incidental  character)  of  inhibition 


ancestors;  it  tends  to  start  into  action,  therefore,  whenever 
its  associated  stimulus  occurs.  But  the  very  fact  that  it  is 
now  reduced  to  an  attitude  or  tendency,  the  very  fact  that 
it  is  now  relatively  easy  to  learn  to  control  the  instinctive 
blind  reaction  when  we  are  stimulated  in  a  certain  way, 
shows  that  the  primary  activity  is  inhibited ;  it  no  longer 
exists  as  a  whole  by  itself,  but  simply  as  a  coordinated 
phase,  or  a  contributory  means,  in  a  larger  activity.  There 
is  no  reason  to  suppose  that  the  original  activity  of  attack 
or  seizure  was  emotional,  or  had  any  quale  attached  to  it 
such  as  we  now  term  'anger'.  The  animal  or  our  ances- 
tor so  far  as  it  was  given  up  without  restraint  to  the  full 
activity  undoubtedly  had  a  feeling  of  activity ;  but  just  be- 
cause the  activity  was  undivided,  it  was  not  '  emotion ' ;  it 
was  not  « at ',  or  <  towards '  an  object  held  in  tension  against 
itself.  This  division  could  come  in  only  when  there  was  a 
need  of  coordinating  the  activity  which  corresponded  to  the 
perception  and  that  which  corresponded  to  the  fighting,  as 
means  to  an  activity  which  was  neither  perceiving  nor  fight- 
ing. The  animal  growling  and  lashing  its  tail  as  it  waits  to 
fight  may  have  an  emotional  consciousness,  but  even  here, 
there  may  be,  for  all  we  know,  simply  a  unified  conscious- 
ness, a  complete  concentration  on  the  act  of  maintaining  that 
posture,  the  act  of  waiting  being  the  adequate  response  to 
the  given  stimulus.  Certainly,1  so  far  as  I  can  trust  my  own 
introspection,  whenever  my  anger  or  any  strong  emotion  has 

1 1  have  no  intention  here  of  constructing,  a  priori,  the  animal  consciousness.  I  use 
this  merely  as  hypothetical  illustration  ;  (/"unification  of  activity,  then  no  emotion  ;  if 
emotion,  then  tension  of  intellectual  recognition  on  one  side  and  consideration  of  how 
to  behave  towards  object  recognized  on  the  other.  I  must  add,  however,  that  such  in- 
terpretations as  Darwin's  umbrella  case  (in  his  Descent  of  Man),  as  illustrating  a  rude 
sense  of  the  supernatural,  seem  to  me  most  unwarrantably  anthropomorphic.  Surely, 
the  only  straightforward  interpretation  is,  there  was  interruption  of  a  reaction  which  had 
started  to  discharge,  and  that  such  a  change  in  stimulus  suddenly  set  up  another  dis- 
charge totally  at  cross-purposes  with  the  first,  thus  disintegrating  the  animal's  coordina- 
tions for  a  moment.  Unless  the  animal  recognizes  or  objectifies  the  familiar  reaction, 
and  recognizes  also  the  unexpected  reaction  in  such  a  way  that  there  tension  arises 
between  the  two,  there  can  be  no  emotion  in  the  animal,  but  simply  a  shock  of  inter- 
rupted activity — the  sort  of  fit  which  James  speaks  of,  Vol.  II,  420.  It  may  well  be 
that  the  feeling  cf  the  supernatural  in  man,  however,  is  precisely  the  feeling  of  such 
tension— instead  of  there  being  an  idea  of  the  supernatural,  and  then  an  associated 
feeling  of  terror  towards  it. 


gained  complete  possession  of  me,  the  peculiar  Affect  quale 
has  disappeared.  I  remember  well  a  youthful  fight,  with  the 
emotions  of  irritation  and  anger  before,  and  of  partial  fear 
and  partial  pride  afterwards,  but  as  to  the  intervening  period 
of  the  fight  nothing  but  a  strangely  vivid  perception  of  the 
other  boy's  face  as  the  hypnotizing  focus  of  all  my  muscular 
activities.  On  the  other  side,  my  most  intense  and  vengeful 
feelings  of  anger  are  associated  with  cases  where  my  whole 
body  was  so  sat  on  as  to  prevent  the  normal  reaction.  Every 
one  knows  how  the  smart  and  burn  of  the  feeling  of  injustice 
increases  with  the  feeling  of  impotency ;  it  is,  for  example, 
when  strikes  are  beginning  to  fail  that  violence  from  anger 
or  revenge,  as  distinct  from  sheer  criminality,  sets  in.  It  is 
a  common-place  that  the  busy  philanthropist  has  no  occasion 
to  feel  the  extreme  emotion  of  pathos  which  the  spectator  or 
reader  of  literature  feels.  Cases  might  be  multiplied  ad  lib- 

It  is  then  in  the  reduction  of  activities  once  performed  for 
their  own  sake,  to  attitudes  now  useful  simply  as  supplying 
a  contributory,  a  reinforcing  or  checking  factor,  in  some 
more  comprehensive  activity,  that  we  have  all  the  conditions 
for  high  emotional  disturbance.  The  tendency  to  large  dif- 
fusive waves  of  discharge  is  present,  and  the  inhibition  of 
this  outgoing  activity  through  some  perception  or  idea  is 
also  present.  The  need  of  somehow  reaching  an  adjustment 
of  these  two  sides  is  urgent.  The  attitude  stands  for  a  re- 
capitulation of  thousands  of  acts  formerly  done,  ends  formerly 
reached ;  the  perception  or  idea  stands  for  multitudes  of  acts 
which  may  be  done,  ends  which  may  be  acted  upon.  But 
the  immediate  and  present  need  is  to  get  this  attitude  of 
anger  which  reflects  the  former  act  of  seizing  into  some  con- 
nection with  the  act  of  getting-even  or  of  moral  control,  or 
whatever  the  idea  may  be.  The  conflict  and  competition, 
with  incidental  inhibition  and  deflection,  is  the  disturbance 
of  the  emotional  seizure. 

Upon  this  basis,  the  apparent  strangeness  or  absurdity  in 
the  fact  that  a  mere  organic  repercussation  should  have  such 
tremendous  values  in  consciousness  disappears.  This  organic 
return  of  the  discharge  wave  stands  for  the  entire  effort  of 


the  organism  to  adjust  its  formed  habits  or  coordinations  of 
the  past  to  present  necessities  as  made  known  in  perception 
or  idea.  The  emotion  is,  psychologically,  the  adjustment  or 
tension  of  habit  and  ideal,  and  the  organic  changes  in  the  body 
are  the  literal  working  out,  in  concrete  terms,  of  the  struggle 
of  adjustment.  We  may  recall  once  more  the  three  main 
phases  presented  in  this  adjustment  as  now  giving  us  the 
basis  of  the  classification  of  the  emotions.  There  may  be  a 
failure  to  adjust  the  vegetative-motor  function,  the  habit,  to 
the  sensori-(or  ideo-)  motor ;  there  may  be  the  effort,  or  there 
may  be  the  success.  The  effort,  moreover,  also  has  a  double 
form  according  as  the  attempt  is  in  the  main  so  to  use  the 
formed  reactions  as  to  avoid  or  exclude  the  idea  or  object, 
setting  up  another  in  its  place,  or  to  incorporate  and  assimi- 
late it — e.  g.,  terror  and  anger,  dread  and  hope,  regret  and 
complacency,  etc.1 

I  shall  not  carry  out  this  classification ;  but  further  sug- 
gest that,  in  my  judgment,  we  now  have  the  means  for  dis- 
criminating emotion  as  Gefuhlston,  as  emotional  disturbance, 
or  Affect  (with  which  we  have  been  dealing  so  far)  and  as 

Interest  is  the  feeling  which  arises  with  the  completed 
coordination.  Let  the  tension  solve  itself  by  successive  dis- 
placements in  time,  i.  e.,  means  assuming  a  purely  serial  form 
in  which  one  stimulates  the  next,  and  we  get  the  indifference 
of  routine.  But  let  the  various  means  succeed  in  organizing 
themselves  into  a  simultaneous  comprehensive  whole  of  ac- 
tion, and  we  have  interest.  All  interest,  qua  interest,  it 
would  follow  from  this,  is  qualitatively  alike,  being  differen- 
tiated simply  by  the  idea  to  which  it  attaches.  And  expe- 

1  Because  of  the  tension,  however,  these  cannot  be  set  over  against  each  other 
absolutely.  All  terror,  till  it  passes  into  pathological  fright,  involves  anger,  and  anger 
some  fear,  etc.  All  moral  experience  is  only  too  full  of  the  subtle  and  deceiving  ways 
in  which  regret  (condemnation)  and  complacency  (self -approbation)  run  into  each  other. 
There  is  the  Pharisee  who  can  maintain  his  sense  of  his  own  goodness  only  by  tension 
with  his  thought  of  evil;  or  who  can  make  his  depth  of  remorse  material  for  self- 
gratulation.  And  there  is  the  sentimental  selfish  character  which  disguises  its  own 
disgrace  from  itself  by  emotional  recognitions  of  the  beauty  of  goodness,  and  of  its  own 
misfortunes  in  not  being  able,  in  the  past,  to  satisfy  this  ideal.  I  have  never  known 
other  such  touching  tributes  to  goodness  as  can  proceed  from  the  sentimental  egoist, 
when  he  gets  into  '  trouble,'  as  he  euphemistically  terms  it. 


rience  seems  to  verify  this  inference.  Interest  is  undisturbed 
action,  absorbing  action,  unified  action,  and  all  interests,  as 
interests,  are  equally  interesting.  The  collection  of  postage 
stamps  is  as  absorbing,  if  it  is  absorbing  or  an  interest,  as 
the  discovery  of  double-stars;  and  the  figuring  of  indefinite 
columns  of  statistics  as  the  discovery  of  the  nature  of  sym- 
pathy. Nor  is  this  a  pathological  principle,  as  it  might  seem 
to  be  were  we  to  instance  merely  fads  or  hobbies.  The  mul- 
tiplicity of  deeds  which  demand  doing  in  this  world  is  too 
great  to  be  numbered ;  that  principle  which  secures  that  if 
only  full  or  organic  activity  go  into  each  end,  each  act 
shall  equally  satisfy  in  its  time  and  place,  is  the  highest 
ethical  principle ;  it  is  the  statement  of  the  only  religious 
emotional  experience  which  really  seems  worth  while — the 
sense  of  the  validity  of  all  necessary  doing.  I  cannot  dwell 
upon  this  matter  of  interest,  but  I  suggest  the  case  of  purely 
scientific  interest  as  crucial.  On  one  side,  it  seems  wholly 
unemotional,  so  free  from  all  disturbance  or  excitation  may 
it  become ;  on  the  other,  it  represents  a  culmination  of  absorp- 
tion, of  concentrated  attention.  How  this  apparent  paradox 
is  to  be  dealt  with  save  on  the  supposition  that  emotion  (as 
Affect)  is  the  feeling  of  tension  in  action,  while  interest  is  the 
feeling  of  a  complex  of  relevant  activity  unified  in  a  single 
channel  of  discharge,  I  do  not  see. 

As  for  the  Gefuhlston,  I  shall  only  state  the  conclusion 
that  would  seem  to  follow  from  a  thorough-going  application 
of  the  principle  already  laid  down.  I  do  not  know  that  this 
complete  application  is  advisable,  much  less  necessary,  but  I 
share  somewhat  in  the  feeling  of  Mr.  Baldwin  as  expressed 
in  the  Nov.  number  (p.  6 17)  of  this  REVIEW,  that  there  is  a  pre- 
sumption that  a  unitary  principle  holds  all  the  way  through.1 
At  all  events,  those  who  have  followed  me  so  far  may  like 
to  see  how  the  hypothesis  already  propounded  might  con- 
ceivably apply  to  the  case  of,  say,  delight  in  certain  tones, 

1  It  hardly  seems  fair,  though,  to  charge  Mr.  James  with  inconsistency  because  he 
declines  to  force  his  theory  beyond  the  limits  of  the  facts  upon  which  he  feels  himself 
to  have  a  sure  hold.  Surely  we  may  admire  this  reserve,  even  if  we  cannot  imitate  it, 
instead  of  virtually  accusing  him  of  giving  away  his  whole  case  by  admitting,  hypothet- 
ically,  the  existence  of  facts  whose  explanation  would  require  an  opposite  principle. 


colors  or  tastes,  while  those  who  do  not  accept  the  hypothesis 
will  hardly  be  shocked  at  one  absurdity  the  more. 

The  suggestion,  then,  is  that  the  Gefiihlston  represents 
the  complete  consolidation  of  a  large  number  of  achieved 
ends  into  the  organic  habit  or  coordination.  It  is  interest 
read  backwards.  That  represents  the  complete  identifica- 
tion of  the  habits  with  a  certain  end  or  aim.  The  tone  of 
sense-feeling  represents  the  reaction,  the  incorporate  identi- 
fication, of  the  successful  ends  into  the  working  habit.  It  is 
not,  as  I  have  hitherto  indicated,  habit  as  habit  which  be- 
comes feelingless ;  it  is  only  the  habit  which  serves  as  mere 
means,  or  serial  stimulus.  That  a  given  coordination  should 
assume  into  itself  the  value  of  all  associated  coordinations  is 
a  fact  of  every  day  experience.  Our  eye-consciousness  takes 
up  into  itself  the  value  of  countless  motor  and  touch  experi- 
ences ;  our  ear  takes  up  the  value  of  motor  and  visual  expe- 
riences, &c.  There  is  no  apparent  reason  why  this  vicarious 
assumption  should  not  become  so  organically  registered — 
pace  Weissman — as  to  become  hereditary ;  and  become  more 
and  more  functionally  incorporated  into  structure. 

To  sum  up: — Certain  movements,  formerly  useful  in 
themselves,  become  reduced  to  tendencies  to  action,  to  atti- 
tudes. As  such  they  serve,  when  instinctively  aroused  into 
action,  as  means  for  realizing  ends.  But  so  far  as  there  is 
difficulty  in  adjusting  the  organic  activity  represented  by 
the  attitude  with  that  which  stands  for  the  idea  or  end,  there 
is  temporary  struggle  and  partial  inhibition.  This  is  reported 
as  Affect,  or  emotional  seizure.  Let  the  coordination  be 
effected  in  one  act,  instead  of  in  a  successive  series  of  mutu- 
ally exclusive  stimuli,  and  we  have  interest.  Let  such  coor- 
dinations become  thoroughly  habitual  and  hereditary,  and 
we  have  Gefiihlston. 



College  of  Physicians  and  Surgeons,  New  York. 

It  is  not  necessary  to  present  to  the  readers  of  this  jour- 
nal any  lengthy  discussion  in  regard  to  the  muscular  sense. 
Every  psychologist  admits  that  there  is  a  sense  of  movement 
which  enables  us  to  appreciate,  (i)  the  position  of  a  limb  in 
space ;  (2)  the  degree  and  force  of  muscular  action  necessary 
to  change  the  position  of  that  limb ;  (3)  the  power  needed  to 
oppose  varying  resistances  to  the  motion  of  that  limb.  It 
has  been  thought  by  some  that  the  muscular  sense  was  mate- 
rially aided  by  the  tactile  sense  in  the  process  of  accurate 
guiding  and  adjustment ;  it  has  been  held  by  others  that  the 
muscular  sense  was  wholly  independent  of  the  other  senses 
and  the  fact  here  recorded  supports  this  latter  view.  It  has 
been  held  by  some,  that  the  centres  of  perception  of  the  mus- 
cular sense  in  the  cortex  were  identical  with  the  centres  of 
movement  in  the  cortex;  it  has  been  held  by  others,  that 
these  centres  were  separate  from  one  another;  and  the  fact 
here  recorded,  supports  this  latter  view. 

It  is  well  known  that  disturbance  in  muscular  sense  may 
be  produced  by  diseases  in  various  parts  of  the  nervous  sys- 
tem. Thus  we  have  ataxia  or  incoordination  of  movement, 
not  depending  upon  paralysis  of  the  muscles,  but  entirely  due 
to  a  lack  of  appreciation  of  muscular  sense  impressions,  from 
(i)  diseases  of  the  peripheral  nerves;  (2)  diseases  of  the  pos- 
terior columns  of  the  spinal  cord,  as  shown  in  locomotor 
ataxia;  (3)  diseases  of  the  lemniscus  or  its  radiation  in  the 
internal  capsule  in  its  course  toward  the  cortex  around  the 
Rolandic  fissure ;  (4)  general  diffuse  diseases  of  the  cortex  of 
the  brain,  such  as  general  paresis.  It  is  evident  therefore, 


34  M.  ALLEN  STARR. 

that  any  defect  in  the  tract  conveying  muscular  sense  from 
the  muscles  to  the  brain  cortex,  will  produce  a  disturbance 
in  the  power  of  coordination. 

Hitherto,  facts  have  been  wanting  to  determine  the  actual 
position  of  the  termination  of  this  tract  in  the  cortex  and  the 
exact  location  of  the  muscular  sense  centres.  The  following 
observation,  therefore,  is  one  of  considerable  value,  inasmuch 
as  it  illustrates  the  possibility  of  producing  an  entire  loss  of 
muscular  sense  by  a  limited  destruction  of  the  brain  cor- 
tex, without  producing  at  the  same  time,  any  disturbance  in 
motor  power  or  in  tactile  sensibility ;  and  determines  the 
localization  of  the  muscular  sense  centre  for  the  hand  in  the 
parietal  region. 

The  case  presents  a  set  of  facts  quite  analogous  to  those 
obtained  in  a  physiological  experiment  and  is  one  of  consid- 
erable interest. 

A  young  man  was  brought  to  the  Presbyterian  Hospital, 
suffering  from  intense  headache,  to  the  left  of,  and  somewhat 
behind  the  vertex,  and  from  epilepsy.  He  had  been  a  healthy 
boy  until  his  fifth  year,  when  he  had  a  severe  fall  on  his 
head,  which  was  followed  by  unconsciousness  for  several 
hours.  Since  that  time  he  had  never  completely  gained  his 
mental  balance.  He  had  seemed  fairly  bright  at  his  lessons, 
and  willing  to  study,  but  was  very  easily  agitated  and  accus- 
tomed to  give  way  to  emotional  excitement  or  passion ;  his 
memory  was  good,  but  his  powers  of  application  somewhat 
deficient.  When  he  was  sixteen  years  old,  he  had  another 
fall  on  his  head  followed  by  unconsciousness,  and  from  that 
time  his  symptoms  were  all  increased.  The  headache  was 
very  intense,  quite  constant,  and  subject  to  sudden  periods 
of  increase.  When  the  pain  increased  exceedingly,  the  boy 
would  develop  a  maniacal  condition,  in  which  his  actions 
were  extravagant,  his  speech  abusive  and  profane,  and  in 
which  he  resorted  to  acts  of  violence  toward  his  family  and 
employers.  These  attacks  occurred  every  few  days,  unless 
reduced  in  frequency  by  the  use  of  bromide  of  potash ;  but 
in  spite  of  treatment,  would  occur  every  three  or  four  weeks. 
After  the  attack  was  over,  he  had  no  recollection  of  what 
had  occurred  during  it,  and  on  several  occasions,  he  lost  con- 


sciousness  during  the  attack  and  slept  heavily  after  it;  he 
never  had  any  convulsions.  This  condition  had  been  present 
for  five  years,  when  he  came  to  the  hospital.  It  was  thought 
that  the  attacks  were  of  the  nature  of  epilepsy,  being  of  the 
variety  known  as  the  epileptic  psychical  equivalent,  in  which 
condition  a  sudden  attack  of  mental  aberration  takes  the 
place  of  a  convulsion,  and  though  the  patient  is  apparently 
conscious,  he  subsequently  has  no  recollection  whatever  of 
his  acts  during  an  attack.  The  fact  that  these  attacks 
had  developed  after  a  fall  on  the  head,  and  that  he  suffered 
constantly  from  severe  pain  at  the  seat  of  the  injury,  led 
to  an  attempt  to  relieve  the  condition  by  opening  the 
skull.  Dr.  McCosh,  Surgeon  to  the  Presbyterian  Hos- 
pital, trephined  him  and  found,  upon  exposing  the  brain, 
a  small  vascular  tumor  lying  beneath  the  point  of  injury, 
directly  upon  the  brain  surface.  The  size  of  this  vas- 
cular tumor  was  about  ^  of  an  inch  in  diameter.  It  was 
removed  without  producing  any  injury  to  the  surface  of 
the  brain,  so  far  as  could  be  determined.  The  brain  was  ex- 
plored by  thrusting  a  needle  into  it  in  three  directions,  in 
view  of  the  possibility  of  finding  a  small  collection  of  fluid 
beneath  the  surface ;  but  nothing  was  found.  The  boy  recov- 
ered from  the  operation  rapidly,  so  that  within  ten  days  he 
was  quite  well ;  but  immediately  after  the  operation  it  was 
found  that  he  had  lost  his  muscular  sense  in  the  right  hand 
and  arm,  below  the  elbow.  Attention  was  called  to  the  fact 
by  the  peculiar  awkwardness  in  the  movement  of  hand  and 
arm.  Any  attempt  to  grasp  a  pencil  or  glass  of  water  or  to 
pick  up  a  pin,  resulted  in  most  excessive  motions  of  an  irreg- 
ular type,  without  the  possibility  of  carrying  out  the  desired 
movement,  even  when  guided  by  sight.  The  attempt  to 
place  his  finger  upon  his  nose  with  his  eyes  closed,  failed; 
the  finger  being  carried  beyond  the  side  of  the  head  and  above 
it;  in  fact  all  voluntary  guidance  of  the  hand  was  imperfect. 
At  the  same  time  his  strength  was  as  good  as  ever,  his  grip 
was  greater  in  the  right  hand  than  in  the  left,  so  that  the 
defect  of  movement  was  in  no  way  due  to  an  actual  loss  of 
power.  When  his  eyes  were  closed  he  was  absolutely  unable 
to  tell  what  position  had  been  given  to  his  fingers  or  hand 

36  M,  ALLEN  STARR, 

by  the  examiner;  he  did  not  know  whether  his  hand  was 
open  or  closed ;  when  his  hand  and  fingers  were  placed  in  a 
position  and  he  was  requested  to  put  the  other  hand  in  the 
same  position,  his  eyes  being  shut,  he  was  totally  unable  to 
do  so ;  he  was  unable  to  estimate  with  any  degree  of  accur- 
acy, substances  different  in  weight  in  the  right  hand,  though 
able  to  detect  the  differences  readily  with  the  left  hand.  It 
was  evident  that  his  awkwardness  of  movement  was  largely 
due  to  the  inability  to  adjust  his  motions  with  the  necessary 
degree  of  power.  At  the  same  time  his  tactile  sense  and 
sensation  of  temperature  and  pain  were  perfectly  normal. 
There  was  no  disturbance  of  any  kind  in  the  face  or  leg. 
This  condition  began  to  pass  off  about  three  weeks  after  the 
operation,  and  at  the  end  of  three  months,  he  had  recovered 
his  muscular  sense  entirely.  It  was  therefore  evident,  that 
t-his  particular  effect  had  been  produced  by  a  small  localized 
injury  of  the  cortex  of  the  brain,  which  had  been  subsequently 
repaired  by  nature.  The  exact  position  of  the  cortex  injured 
was  easily  determined,  and  it  was  found  to  be  about  two 
inches  behind  the  fissure  of  Rolando  and  about  an  inch  and  a 
half  to  the  left  of  the  median  line,  at  about  the  junction  of 
the  superior  and  inferior  parietal  lobules.  This  observation 
would  therefore  indicate :  first,  that  the  muscular  sense  cen- 
tres are  distinct  in  their  location  from  tactile  or  pain  or  tem- 
perature sense  centres;  and  also  from  the  motor  centres; 
secondly,  that  they  are  situated  just  behind  the  motor  area 
in  the  parietal  region  of  the  brain. 


BY    PROFESSOR   G.    W.    FITZ, 

Lawrence  Scientific  School,  Harvard  University. 

The  problem  which  stimulated  to  the  designing  of  this 
apparatus  was  that  of  testing  the  power  of  an  individual  to 
quickly  and  accurately  touch  an  object  suddenly  disclosed  to 
him  in  an  unexpected  position.  In  order  to  make  the  prob- 
lem as  simple  as  possible  the  apparatus  (see  Figure  i) 
was  so  devised  that  the  subject  is  required  to  make  a 
movement  of  the  finger  from  the  end  of  the  nose  to  some 
portion  of  the  arc  of  a  circle  of  which  he  is  the  centre  and 
whose  plane  is  at  the  level  of  his  elbow.  Three  positions 
were  selected  to  give  a  wide  range  of  movement,  namely, 
the  centre  immediately  in  front  and  a  point  on  each  side  at  a 
distance  of  about  14  in.  (A,  B  and  C).  The  object  to  be  touched 
consists  of  a  white  spot  ^  in.  in  diameter,  which  may  be 
placed  at  any  one  of  these  points  without  the  knowledge  of 
the  subject,  a  screen  being  in  front,  arranged  to  fall  at  the 
proper  time  and  instantly  disclose  the  spot.  In  connection 
with  this,  a  pendulum  chronoscope  is  used  which  measures 
the  interval  of  time  between  the  falling  of  the  screen  and  the 
touching  of  the  white  spot. 

The  apparatus  for  determining  the  error  is  constructed  to 
measure  the  distance  of  the  centre  of  the  finger  (Fig.  2,  F) 
from  the  centre  of  the  white  spot  (S)  on  either  side,  thus 
showing  the  error  of  the  movement  executed  and  its  direc- 
tion. It  consists  of  a  horizontal  strip  (St)  of  blackened  brass 
7  in.  long,  bearing  in  its  centre  the  white  spot  (S).  This  is 
hinged  along  one  side  so  that  the  finger  pressure  makes  an 
electrical  contact  (E)  to  determine  the  end  of  the  time  inter- 
val and  also  releases  the  clamp  controlling  the  error  record- 
ing apparatus.  Below  this  are  two  light  arms  (GG)  pivoted 


G.  W.  FITZ. 

at  a  common  point  directly  under  the  white  spot,  so  that 
their  tips  project  above  the  first  strip  about  ^  in.  These 
arms  are  connected  by  a  spring  (Sp)  tending  to  pull  them  to- 
gether, but  are  held  apart  in  the  preliminary  position  by  the 


pressure  of  the  clamp  projecting  downward  from  strip  (St, 
not  shown  in  diagram)  and  are  released  by  the  touch  of  the 
subject,  springing  instantly  to  grasp  the  finger  (F)  between 
them.  The  raising  of  the  finger  clamps  them  anew  in  this 
position,  and  the  displacement  of  the  index  showing  the  mid 
point  of  the  finger  can  be  read  on  its  scale  (R-L).  This  is 
found  to  work  very  quickly  and  conveniently  with  practi- 
cally no  observation  error.  A  frame  work  carries  the 
various  parts  and  a  set  of  wheels  enables  it  to  be  run  into  any 
position  desired. 

The  chronoscope  has  a  balanced  pendulum  (Fig.  3),  12 
inches  total  length,  so  weighted  (W)  that  the  time  of  swing 
is  about  a  second  and  a  half.  The  pendulum  (P)  carries  a 


light  index  (I)  that  may  be  clamped  instantly  in  any  position 
on  the  scale  (S),  which  latter  was  graduated  empirically  in 
hundredths  of  a  second  by  a  falling  weight.  The  pendulum 


is  held  in  the  preparatory  position  (Fig.  4)  by  means  of  a  hook 
{H)  connected  with  the  armature  (A)  of  an  electromagnet 



{M).     The  breaking  of  the  circuit  by  the  fall  of  the  screen 
releases  (Fig.  5,  R)  the  pendulum  carrying  its  index;   the  re- 



making  of  the  circuit,  by  the  touch  of  the  subject's  finger, 
releases  (Fig.  5,  R)  the  clamp  (C)  and  catches  the  index  so  that 

G.  W.  FITZ. 

the  time  may  be  read  upon  the  scale  (Fig.  3,  S).  There  is  a 
level  (L)  upon  the  base  board  to  enable  one  to  put  it  in  an 
exactly  horizontal  position,  and  the  error  of  the  instrument 
is  thereby  reduced  to  a  negligible  quantity.  The  details  of 
the  release  are  shown  in  Figures  4  and  5. 

By  means  of  this  apparatus  it  was  hoped  to  measure  some 
of  the  elements  making  up  the  differences  which  exist  be- 
tween individuals  in  their  power  to  do  certain  things  requir- 
ing quickness  and  accuracy,  as,  for  instance,  tennis  playing 
and  fencing,  the  essential  requirements  being  the  perception 
and  quick  interpretation  of  external  conditions,  followed  in- 
stantly by  an  appropriate  motor  response.  The  apparatus 
gives  us  somewhat  similar  conditions  to  those  offered  by  the 
games  mentioned,  but  gives  them  so  definitely  that  it  is  pos- 
sible to  get  a  numerical  statement  of  what  each  individual  is 
able  to  do  in  terms  of  quickness  and  accuracy.  The  differ- 
ences have  been  found  to  be  remarkably  great,  and  there  is 
an  apparent  lack  of  coordination  between  time  and  error; 
that  is,  those  who  are  quick  are  not  necessarily  less  accurate 
than  those  who  are  slower. 

The  accompanying  table  shows  the  result  of  some  work 
with  the  apparatus,  and  is  given  to  suggest  the  wide  range 
of  individual  ability  thus  tested. 



Time  in 

%  of 


%  of 


Tta  sec- 







27-  35 



ii.  i 




35-  45 







45-  55 







55-  65 







65-  75 







75-  85 







85-  95 














The  tests  were  made  in  three  positions  (A,  B,  C,  in  the 
order  i,  2,  3,  4,  5,  6),  as  described,  every  individual  making 

A  LOG  A  TION  RE  A  C  TION  A  PPA  RA  TUS.  4 1 

four  attempts  in  each  position,  twelve  all  told.  These  were 
recorded  separately,  hence  it  is  possible  to  study  each  effort 
in  relation  to  the  position  in  which  it  was  made.  This  was 
done  for  both  hands  to  compare  the  right  with  the  left  in 
regard  to  quickness,  accuracy  and  direction  of  error;  but  it 
has  been  thought  best  not  to  include  a  discussion  of  the 
results  from  this  standpoint  in  the  present  paper. 

The  table  contains  a  study  of  the  observations  made  with 
the  right,  or  preferred,  hand  by  173  males  and  72  females, 
all  those  of  one  individual  being  treated  here  as  if  made  in 
one  position.  They  were  obtained  from  several  sources,  a 
large  portion  of  them  being  derived  from  the  Psychological 
Laboratory  of  the  Columbian  Exposition,  Chicago,  where 
the  apparatus  was  in  use  by  Prof.  Jastrow,  and  also  from 
Harvard  students  and  in  the  Harvard  Summer  School  of 
Physical  Training.  Inasmuch  as  it  did  not  seem  possible  to 
make  a  fair  classification  of  these,  they  have  been  arranged 
in  two  divisions,  male  and  female,  regardless  of  ages  and 

The  first  column  of  the  table  gives  the  limits  of  quickness, 
determining  each  group  of  these  two  classes :  the  second,  in 
the  two  divisions  of  the  table,  gives  the  number  of  individu- 
als whose  reactions  lie  between  the  limits  noted :  the  third 
gives  the  percentage  of  this  number  to  the  total  number  in 
the  class,  while  the  fourth  gives  the  average  error  which  is 
a  measure  of  the  accuracy  of  the  movements.  It  will  be 
noticed  that  the  number  of  individuals  of  the  different  groups 
shows  a  distinct  distribution  curve  with  the  apex  at  about 
0.5  Sec.  in  the  males  and  0.6  Sec.  in  the  females,  suggesting 
that  these  are  near  the  means.  Of  course,  this  quickness  is 
made  up  of  the  reaction — time  proper  and  the  time  occupied 
in  making  the  movement  from  the  end  of  the  nose  to  the 
plane  of  the  apparatus.  It  will  be  noticed  also  that  the  aver- 
age errors  for  these  groups  do  not  vary  in  ratio  to  the 
quickness,  but  that  those  who  make  the  movement  in  .35  Sec. 
are  almost  as  accurate  as  the  group  making  the  movement  in 
.75  Sec.,  some  being,  indeed,  more  accurate  in  the  former 
case  than  in  the  latter.  There  is  a  suggestion  of  uniformity 
in  the  value  of  the  errors,  and  one  cannot  help  thinking  that 

42  G.  W.  FITZ. 

the  everyday,  haphazard  activity,  demanding  as  it  does  a 
certain  degree  of  accuracy  in  the  execution  of  movements, 
determines  for  each  individual  his  range  of  error,  and  that 
time  is  the  main  element  of  variation. 

It  will  be  noted  that  though  the  time  of  the  females  is 
longer  than  that  of  the  males,  there  is  a  compensatory  in- 
crease in  accuracy.  The  relation  between  time  and  accuracy 
has  not  been  determined,  so  it  is  not  possible  to  make  a  state- 
ment of  the  value  of  accuracy  in  terms  of  time,  but  un- 
doubtedly the  individual,  who  is  fairly  accurate  and  very 
quick,  is  more  accurate  when  he  takes  more  time,  yet  it  is 
also  true  that  he  is  sometimes  much  more  accurate  than  at 
others  without  being  necessarily  either  quicker  or  slower. 
These  individual  variations  have  still  to  be  studied.  The 
main  point  to  be  emphasized  now  is,  that  between  two  per- 
sons it  is  practically  possible  to  bring  one  element  of  the  test, 
either  time  or  accuracy,  to  equality,  so  that  the  difference 
may  be  expressed  numerically  in  terms  of  the  other.  Just 
what  value  this  series  of  tests  has  can  not  be  stated  posi- 
tively, but  we  believe  it  has  distinct  reference  to  motor  abil- 
ity, and  that  this  will  be  shown  by  an  increased  number  of 
observations  upon  individuals  whose  powers  are  definitely 
known  by  comparison  with  others  in  the  various  games. 

I  wish  to  acknowledge  special  indebtedness  to  Prof.  Joseph 
Jastrow,  Mr.  G.  W.  Morehouse,  Dr.  F.  B.  Jewett  and  Mr. 
A.  W.  Jeardeau  for  assistance  in  getting  observations. 



The  question  of  the  relation  of  mind  and  body  is  one  from  which  the 
practiced  reader  shrinks  as  from  a  foreseen  and  profitless  logomachy. 
It  is,  so  to  speak,  a  game  of  chess,  in  which  the  weary  on-looker  an- 
ticipates every  familiar  opening  and  every  vain  movement  to  the  mo- 
ment when  the  infinite  baffler  of  our  finite  thought  mockingly  cries 
'mate.'  The  deep-seated  intellectual  desire  for  unity  and  the  impos- 
sibility of  comprehending  causal  interaction  between  two  disparate 
substances,  drive  us  to  the  affirmation  of  a  Spinozistic  psycho-physical 
parallelism.  Two  courses  then  lie  open  to  us.  Common  sense  and 
the  dread  of  paradox  lead  us  to  limit  this  parallelism,  and  to  affirm 
that  it  obtains  only  in  the  nerve  structures  of  the  organic  world.  That 
is,  that  every  mental  event  has  its  physical  counterpart,  but  that  the 
converse  is  not  true.  This  view  unflinchingly  applied,  together 
with  the  principle  of  continuous  causation,  makes  the  physical  world 
the^n'us  and  the  absolutely  real,  and  reduces  thought,  feeling  and 
consciousness  to  phenomenal  illusions,  summis  fluitantia  rebus.  It 
is  perhaps  the  dominant  view  as  a  psychological  method  at  pres- 
ent. But  it  is  not  really  tenable  as  an  ontological  principle  by  any 
serious  thinker  who  knows  his  Berkeley,  Kant  and  Schopenhauer. 

The  alternative  is  to  make  the  parallelism  absolute  and  assign  a 
mental  and  subjective  or  'inner'  side,  not  merely  to  the  nerve  sub- 
stances of  man  and  the  higher  animals,  but  to  every  atom  of  cosmic 
dust.  Mind  thus  becomes  co-extensive  with  matter,  and  as  the  im- 
mediately known  reduces  its  physical  counterpart  to  an  illusion,  an 
inference,  a  presentation,  an  aspect  or  reflection  of  itself.  But  how 
are  we  to  conceive  this  mind  or  minds?  Are  the  barriers  and  limits 
imposed  by  matter  as  illusory,  from  the  standpoint  of  the  absolutely 
real,  as  matter  itself?  And  are  all  that  we  count  separate  minds 
connected,  related  and  fused  in  an  infinite  world-soul  that  manifests 
itself  in  countless  finite  aspects?  Or  is  our  indefectible  sense  of 
isolated  individuality  the  mental  counterpart  of  the  lines  of  demark- 
ation  we  find  in  the  material  world;  and  will  eternal  form  continue 
to  divide  the  innumerable  minds  the  theory  postulates?  And  if  so, 



what  and  where  are  the  essential  units  of  mind  and  reality?  Is  the 
unit  the  full  consciousness  of  a  mature  man  corresponding  to  the 
healthy  action  of  the  entire  nervous  system  ?  Is  it  one  of  those  split- 
off  consciousnesses  of  which  French  pathology  has  so  suspicious  a 
monopoly  ?  Is  it  a  single  thought,  supposing  us  to  be  able  to  analyze 
out  a  single  thought  ?  Is  it  the  dim  sentience  of  an  amoeba  ?  Is  it  the 
postulated  inner  aspect  of  a  molecule  or  rather,  since  molecules  are 
compounds,  of  an  atom?  Evidently  these  questions  throw  us  back 
into  the  metaphysics  of  the  Leibnitzian  monad,  and  we  are  led  to 
speculate  whether  there  may  not  be  two  kinds  of  spiritual  unity, — 
one  corresponding  to  the  mental  atom,  the  other  to  the  various  ag- 
gregations of  such  units  under  the  control  of  a  superior  co-ordinating 
monad.  By  this  plan,  we  might  return  to  a  world-soul  that  would 
yet  leave  us  at  least  the  illusion  of  a  real  finite  existence.  Specula- 
tions of  this  sort,  alluring  and  inevitable  as  they  are  to  all  who 
dabble  in  metaphysics,  do  not  touch  the  realities  of  our  thought  and 
experience  very  nearly.  But  however  fruitless  they  may  seem,  they 
are  at  present  inextricably  involved  with  the  methodology,  the  aims 
and  the  conflicting  tendencies  of  modern  psychology.  No  psy- 
chology in  recent  times  is  free  from  this  sort  of  metaphysics,  and 
the  writers  who  protest  against  it  loudest  are  the  most  deeply  in- 
fected. Great  interest  attaches,  therefore,  to  the  review  of  the 
entire  question  just  published  by  the  veteran  Wundt.1  If  we  can  not 
look  for  final  solutions  even  from  him,  we  may  expect  light  on  the 
darker  places  of  his  own  voluminous  works,  suggestive  criticisms  of 
present  psychological  tendencies,  and  a  clear  defining  of  the  some- 
what obscure  issues  between  him  and  the  young  psychologists  of  the 
school  of  Ziehen  and  Miinsterberg. 

It  is  probable  that  only  a  few  very  patient  readers  have  been 
able  to  form  a  clear  conception  of  what  the  controversy  between 
these  two  schools,  if  we  may  call  them  so,  is  about.  The  new  psy- 
chologists have  all  been  directly  or  indirectly  trained  in  the  school 
of  Wundt,  and  the  master  himself  has  from  time  to  time  modified 
the  formal  statement  at  least  of  his  doctrines  in  concession  to  their 
criticisms.  They  profess  a  perfunctory  allegiance,  which  he  regards 
as  hollow,  to  the  results  of  Kantian  criticism;  and  he  disavows  the 
traces  of  supernaturalism  or  mysticism  which  they  discover  in  his 
theories  of  apperception,  attention,  and  will.  Both  accept  as  funda- 
mental the  psycho-physical  parallelism,  the  conservation  of  energy, 
the  indispensability  of  introspection,  the  utility  of  the  experimental 

1  Ueber  psychische  Causalitdt  und  das  Princip  des  psychophysischen  Paral- 
lelismus.  W.  Wundt,  P kilos.  Stud.,  X.,  1-124.  1894. 


method.  Wundt  denies  that  the  psycho-physical  parallelism  involves 
the  existence  of  any  physical  counterpart  of  the  successive  creative 
syntheses  by  which  our  thought  is  qualitatively  elaborated  out  of  the 
elements  that  analysis  detects,  and  he  stigmatizes  as  materialistic 
the  psychology  that  fails  to  recognize  this  limitation  on  the  study  of 
mind  through  matter.  But  Miinsterberg,  while  affirming  that  the 
entire  content  of  our  consciousness  is  explicable  by  the  association 
of  sensational  elements  in  obedience  to  physical  laws,  expressly  ex- 
cepts  from  the  possibility  of  such  explanation  the  quality  of  con- 
sciousness that  attaches  to  this  content.  May  it  not  be  that  by  this 
inexplicable  quality  of  consciousness  Miinsterberg  is  merely  general- 
izing what  Wundt  means  by  insisting  that  every  mental  synthesis 
yields  a  quality  that  cannot  be  obtained  from  the  sum  of  its  elements, 
and  which  is,  therefore,  inexplicable  by  any  analysis  or  synthesis 
stated  in  physical  symbols?  If  this  is  the  case,  there  is,  after  all,  no 
very  serious  philosophical  difference  between  the  two  disputants. 
Both  accept  the  psycho-physical  parallelism,  both  recognize  our  ina- 
bility to  bridge  the  gulf  between  the  two  series.  But  Miinsterberg, 
content  with  a  general  recognition  of  these  difficulties,  would  simplify 
his  psychological  analysis  by  practically  ignoring  them,  as  does 
Spencer,  and  treating  the  mere  combinations  of  the  elements  ex- 
pressed in  physical  symbols  as  an  adequate  explanation  of  all  higher 
states.  Wundt,  on  the  other  hand,  wishes  us  to  recognize  the  irre- 
ducible quality  of  mind  at  each  stage  of  the  synthetic  process,  by 
which  we  rise  from  the  simpler  to  the  more  complex  mental  states. 

For  the  method  and  the  language  of  psychology,  however,  the 
difference  is  all  important.  Wundt's  psychological  descriptions  and 
analyses  are  couched  in  a  literary  language  that  makes  its  appeal 
directly  to  our  conscious  experience.  The  words  are  chosen  for 
their  power  to  recall  vividly  to  the  reader's  mind  the  experience  of 
which  he  treats.  To  some  extent,  of  course,  all  psychologists  use 
language  in  this  way.  But  the  tendency  of  the  'new,'  the  'phys- 
iological,'the  'materialistic*  psychology  is  to  employ  in  psych- 
ological descriptions  and  analyses,  language  which  has  a  merely 
symbolic  and  algebraic  value,  expressions  chosen  not  for  their  power 
to  reinstate  the  experience  described,  but  for  their  convenience  for 
expressing  the  writer's  view  of  its  explanatory  analysis.  Which  dia- 
lect will  the  psychologist  of  the  future  use?  If  he  is  as  clever  as 
Prof.  James  he  will  probably  employ  both  languages, — the  language 
of  vivid  literary  description  to  aid  the  reader  in  realizing  the  states 
depicted,  the  language  of  symbol  to  lend  plausibility  and  a  halo  of 
science  to  the  analysis. 

46  MIND  AND  BOD  Y. 

But  what  is  the  real  service  of  the  symbol?  In  mathematical 
physics  we  substitute  abstract  symbols  for  the  sensible  realities,  be- 
cause the  symbol  is  adequate  for  our  purposes.  It  enables  us  to 
solve  problems  and  to  predict  results.  In  other  words,  it  represents 
the  true  causal  relations  so  far  as  they  are  accessible  to  human  in- 
telligence. Now,  the  employment  of  symbols  and  symbolical, 
physiological  language  by  the  '  young  psychologists '  is  mainly  due 
to  their  instinctive  desire  to  transfer  to  psychology  the  conception 
of  cause  which  mathematical  physics  has  made  the  ideal  of  modern 
science.  Speaking  of  the  schematic  diagrams  by  which  he  illustrates 
association,  Prof.  James  says:  "It  is  only  as  incorporated  in  the 
brain  that  such  a  scheme  can  represent  anything  causal,"  and  he 
accordingly  denies  that  similarity  can  be  an  ultimate  law  of  associa- 
tion on  the  ground  that  similar  ideas  do  not  co-exist  in  the  mind  in 
the  intervals  of  latency,  but  are  mere  dispositions  of  the  brain.  A 
like  feeling  about  psychic  causality  underlies  his  suggestions  that  psy- 
chology is  awaiting  its  Galileo  or  Lavoisier,  whose  advent  may  sur- 
prise us  any  day.  Our  entire  conception  of  the  method  and  prosecu- 
tion of  psychological  research  will  depend  on  our  acceptance  or  rejec- 
tion of  this  assimilation  of  physical  to  psychical  causality.  Owing 
to  the  homogeneity  of  its  symbols  (which  enables  us  to  interpolate 
imaginary  links  at  pleasure,)  physical  causation  tends  to  be  con- 
ceived as  a  continuous  unbroken  chain.  It  is  not  easy  to  conceive 
of  psychic  causation  in  this  way.  Highly  complex  states  succeed 
each  other  in  the  mind  with  no  apprehensible  intermediate  links, 
and  consciousness  as  a  whole  is  suspended  in  sleep  and  disease.  The 
resort  to  the  infinitesimal  of  the  unconscious  savors  of  Leibnitzian 
metaphysics.  It  is  easy,  then,  to  see  why  the  young  psychologists 
seek  to  base  their  psychologies  on  the  physical  conception  of  cause. 
But  we  have  still  to  ask,  what  is  the  justification  of  this  procedure, 
either  from  the  point  of  view  of  ultimate  metaphysics  or  of  practical 
psychologizing?  If  they  seriously  maintain  that  all  causal  efficacy 
resides  in  brain  states  which  have  no  psychic  counterpart,  then,  de- 
spite their  professed  allegiance  to  the  critical  philosophy,  they  are 
making  matter  a  'Ding  an  sich.'  If  they  accept  consciousness 
in  toto,  as  a  reality  for  which  no  physical  conditions  can  account,  or 
if  they  admit  anywhere  a  mental  spontaneity,  which  can  select 
among  the  ideas  which  the  associative  machinery  introduces,  they 
have  abandoned  the  unflinching  mechanical  explanation  of  the  uni- 
verse, as  completely  as  if  they  granted  us  a  soul,  possessing  the 
faculty  of  retaining  latent  ideas  and  associating  them  by  similarity. 
If  it  is  impossible  to  carry  the  mechanical  explanation  through,  how 


can  they  define  a  priori  the  powers  and  potencies  of  the  irreducible 
spiritual  factor  whose  presence  in  the  problem  is  so  grudgingly  con- 
ceded? It  will  perhaps  be  said  that  this  is  unprofitable  metaphysics, 
and  that  in  practice  the  '  soul '  has  shown  itself  a  perfectly  barren 
and  useless  psychological  conception,  while  brain  processes  and 
schematic  diagrams  have  been  found  to  be  fruitful  working  hypothe- 
ses. What  then  is  the  real  outcome,  either  for  knowledge  of  the 
mind  or  for  scientific  anatomy  of  the  hypothetical  brain  schemes  that 
adorn  the  pages  of  the  new  psychology?  Such  are  some  of  the  chief 
problems  suggested  by  Wundt's  study,  of  which,  after  these  intro- 
ductory reflections,  I  proceed  to  give  a  brief  summary. 

Viewed  in  the  light  of  the  psychological  origin  of  the  conception, 
a  cause  is  a  thing  that  produces  an  effect  on  another  thing.  When 
primitive  thought  has  occasion  to  distinguish  cause  and  condition, 
it  regards  the  thing  as  the  cause  proper  and  its  varying  aspects  and 
relations  as  the  conditions  of  its  operation.  More  exact  and  abstract 
thought  comes  to  recognize  that  there  is  always  some  special  rela- 
tion, quality  or  change  of  the  thing  that  determines  its  effect  on 
another  thing,  and  thus  arises  a  tendency  to  fix  the  attention  on  this 
determining  relation  or  aspect  as  the  cause  proper,  and  to  regard 
things  with  their  complexes  of  qualities  and  relations  as  the  con- 
ditions. Now  in  fixing  the  meaning  of  a  term  like  cause,  we  may 
endeavor  to  make  our  definition  include  its  psychological  origin  and 
popular  acceptation,  or  we  may  intentionally  modify  the  conception 
so  as  to  make  it  a  more  convenient  instrument  of  thought.  In  deal- 
ing with  the  idea  of  cause  we  must  follow  the  latter  course.  We 
must  modify  the  original  conception  in  accordance  with  the  needs  of 
modern  science.  To  attain  command  over  nature  and  the  power  of 
prediction,  science  must  possess  a  practicably  applicable  criterion 
for  distinguishing  that  condition  which  is  for  our  purpose  the  ope- 
rating cause.  From  this  point  of  view  things  are  too  vague  to  serve 
as  causes.  A  thing  is  a  complex  of  generalities,  a  seat  of  countless 
qualities  known  or  unknown,  the  center  of  an  infinity  of  relations, 
along  the  line  of  any  one  of  which  its  qualities  may  operate.  Yet  to 
disregard  things  altogether,  and  to  consider  qualities  and  relations 
only,  is  to  fall  back  on  Hume's  conception  of  causality,  and  retain 
no  law  or  order  in  the  world  other  than  subjective  rule  of  habit. 
This  difficulty  is  in  part  met  in  the  exact  sciences  by  the  modern 
conception  of  causality  based  on  the  conservation  of  energy  and  the 
equivalence  of  the  forces  of  nature.  The  cause  equals  the  effect  in 
units  of  force,  and  the  chain  of  causation  is  a  series  of  mathematical 
physical  equations.  What  is  the  significance,  and  what  are  the 


limitations  of  this  principle?  In  the  present  state  of  science  it  is  a 
mere  postulate.  The  complication  of  the  problem,  if  nothing  else, 
prevents  verification  in  the  majority  of  cases.  But  verification, 
when  possible,  is  so  precise,  the  evidence  accumulates  so  rapidly, 
and  the  satisfaction  of  the  imaginative  desire  for  unity  is  so  complete, 
that  we  assume  the  law  to  be  absolute  for  the  physical  world.  Does 
this  mean  that  the  physical  order  constitutes  a  closed  series,  into 
which  it  is  demonstrably  impossible  to  interpolate  an  alien  or  spirit- 
ual link,  such  as  an  impulse  from  the  soul  to  the  brain,  however 
slight?  On  this  point  there  is  an  apparent  uncertainty  in  Wundt's 
utterances.  The  energy  of  position  to  be  developed  by  a  stone 
hurled  into  the  air  would  remain  the  same,  he  says,  were  the  stone 
arrested  by  a  miracle  and  held  in  suspense  for  a  given  time.  Now, 
only  a  small  portion  of  the  equations  by  which  the  mechanical  ex- 
planation of  the  universe  is  stated  are  dynamic,  we  are  in  every  case 
compelled  to  rest  finally  on  static  equations.  And  the  validity  of 
such  equations,  while  not  inconsistent  with  the  conception  of  the 
physical  world  as  a  closed  series,  does  not  preclude  the  intrusion  of 
an  alien  form  of  causality,  provided  the  intruder  is  not  supposed  to 
create,  but  only  to  direct  or  release  energy.  But  surely  the  only 
meaning  of  this  is  that  gravitation,  chemical  affinity  and  electricity 
are  still  mysteries  which  we  are  unable  to  explain  in  dynamically  con- 
tinuous terminology.  But  the  modern  '  flowing  philosophers '  will 
claim  that  all  reality  is  ultimately  expressible  in  dynamical  terms, 
and  that  the  statical  equations  are  mere  temporary  expressions  of 
our  ignorance.  In  which  case  they  can  only  be  met  by  pointing  out 
that  on  this  assumption  every  problem  will  be  infinitely  complicated 
and  commit  us  to  an  infinite  regress,  making  the  mechanical  expla- 
nation of  the  world  forever  impossible.  Wundt  virtually  admits 
this.  There  are  two  conceivable  types  of  miracles,  he  says:  those 
that  create  new  energy  and  those  that  merely  release  latent  energy. 
The  first  are  excluded  by  the  law  of  the  conservation  of  energy. 
The  second  become  impossible  if  we  postulate  a  continuous  series  of 
dynamic  equations  between  any  two  statical  equations.  In  any  case, 
the  burden  of  proof  rests  with  the  affirmer.  Psychic  phenomena 
yield  no  warrant  for  assuming  miracles  of  the  second  kind,  and  the 
complexity  and  purposiveness,  which  we  see  in  actions,  known  to 
be  purely  reflex  and  unconscious,  are  against  it.  Complete  psycho- 
physical  parallelism,  then,  as  an  empirically  given  fact  and  a  postu- 
late of  method,  must  be  the  doctrine  of  modern  psychology.  The 
metaphysical  meaning  of  that  parallelism  and  its  application  beyond 
consciousness,  belong  to  metaphysics  and  epistemology.  This 


parallelism  postulates  co-existence  in  time  between  the  associated 
members  of  the  physical  and  mental  series.  But  there  are  two 
psychic  realities  of  which  it  renders  no  account.  These  are  the 
combinations  of  psychic  elements  with  each  other  and  the  Werthun- 
terschiede. There  is  nothing  in  the  world  of  physical  forces  and 
processes  that  corresponds  with  these. 

Here  again  the  young  radicals  will  detect  an  irrational  element 
in  Wundt's  philosophy,  and  it  is  necessary  to  define  his  meaning. 
Even  assuming  an  established   parallelism  between  the    elements, 
physical  combinations  cannot  explain  psychic  combinations  because 
the  former  are  quantitative  while  the  latter  are  qualitative,  and  the 
product  possesses  qualities  not  found  in  the  elements.     This  truth, 
the  principle  of  creative  synthesis,  as  he  afterwards  calls  it,   is  a 
sufficient  bar  to  all   'materialistic'  psychology.     But  in  the  state- 
ment we  are  considering  Wundt  seems  to  have  affirmed  or  denied 
more  than  is  necessary.     He  denies  not  only  that  the  physical  paral- 
lelism can   account  for  qualities,    but  that   there   is   any  physical 
counterpart.     A  feeling  of  inmost  union  between  two  tone  or  color 
.sensations  implies,  he  says,  no  physical  bond  beyond  contemporaneity. 
This   seems    a   wanton    limitation    of   the    principle  of  parallelism. 
The  assumption  that  there  is  some  sort  of  a  physical  basis  for  the 
qualitative  likeness  of  feelings  does  not,  as  Wundt  holds,  lead  to  the 
reductio  ad  absurdum  of  a  Cartesian  pineal  gland.     There  is  ample 
room  for  imaginative  conjecture  in  our  ignorance  of  the  structure 
and  functions  of  the  brain.     The  likeness  may  be  conceived  as  rep- 
resented on  the  physical  side,  not  merely  by  physical  contiguity  but 
through  connecting  fibres  or  parallelisms  of  modes  of  motion.     Such 
conjectures  (which  fill  so  large  a  place  in  the  psychology  of  Herbert 
Spencer)  have  no  anatomical  value,  but  to  deny  a  priori  their  possi- 
bility is  to  fling  down  the  gauntlet  against  one  of  the  most  cherished 
scientific  convictions  of  the  day.     Much  of  the  same  may  be  said  of 
the  exclusion    of    Werthunterschiede  from  the    parallelism.     Nobody 
claims  that  their  quality  is  explained  by  any  physical  process.     But 
neither  is  the  quality  of  a  taste  or  color  so  explicable.     The  analysis 
of   Werthunterschiede   into    associated    elements   of   pleasurable   and 
painful  feeling  fills  too  large  a  space  in  contemporary  ethics  to  be 
thus  dismissed  with  a  contemptuous  fin  de  non  recevoir.     The  psy- 
chic elements  of  pleasure  and  pain  yielded  by  this  analysis  find  their 
parallel  in  the  furtherance  or  hinderance  of  the  life  of  the  organism. 
This  is  not,  as  Wundt  claims,  a  mere  transference  of  psychic  Wer- 
thunterschiede  to    the  physical   side.     Furtherance  and    hinderance, 

50  MIND  AND  BOD  Y. 

as  Leslie  Stephen  has  shown  at  length,  are  defined  in  this  connection 
by  the  Darwinian  doctrine  of  survival. 

These  discussions  are  followed  by  an  amusing  and  vivacious 
critique  of  the  *  materialistic '  psychology  of  Miinsterberg,  Ziehen 
and  others.  By  materialistic  psychology  Wundt  understands  the 
psychology  that  ignores  the  equal  validity  of  the  psychic  side  of  the 
parallelism,  and  deduces  psychic  events  from  physical.  His  weight- 
iest criticism,  however,  is  directed  not  so  much  against  the  false 
metaphysics  of  the  school  as  against  their  doctrinaire  simplification 
of  the  facts  of  the  mental  life,  their  persistent  ignoring  of  the  truth 
that  for  us  the  psychic  side  is  in  every  case  the  most  accessible. 
The  essential  vice  of  their  method  is  that  they  do  not  patiently  ana- 
lyze the  entire  mental  life  as  they  find  it,  but  conduct  their  analysis 
only  with  the  view  of  winning  hypothetical  elements,  (Bacon's 
advolatio  ad  maxime.  genera/ia),  which  are  first  correlated  with  elemen- 
tary physical  processes,  and  then  combined  in  conjectural  syntheses 
to  account  for  everything.  All  the  more  complex  facts  of  the  mental 
life  are  then  reconstructed  a  priori  by  physiological  hypotheses  about 
memory  and  sensory  cells,  connecting  fibres  and  muscular  sensa- 
tions, without  regard  to  the  creative  syntheses  involved  in  all  mental 
combinations.  Where  the  quality  of  the  products  cannot  be  ignored 
it  is  attributed  to  the  elements,  and  all  possibility  of  further  psy- 
chological analysis  is  precluded.  Thus  a  special  spatial  and  tem- 
poral quality  is  assigned  to  all  sensations  per  sey  and  our  complete 
intuitions  of  space  and  time  are  explained  as  summations  of  these. 
So  Hoffding,  to  account  for  recognition,  assumes  a  '  quality  of 
familiarity '  resting  on  physiological  habit,  and  all  shades  of  feeling 
are  explained  as  degrees  of  painful  or  pleasurable  muscular  and 
vaso-motor  reflexes.  In  all  these  cases  the  true  psychologist  de- 
mands in  place  of  this  mechanical  schematism  an  analysis  of  the 
complex  state  in  mental  terms,  with  distinct  recognition  and  descrip- 
tion at  each  stage  of  the  analysis  of  the  new  psychic  quality  result- 
ing from  the  combination.  Even  if  we  grant  a  certain  symbolic 
truth  to  Ziehen's  explanation  of  association  by  sensory  and  memory 
cells  and  associative  fibres,  in  what  way  does  so  obvious  a  simplifi- 
cation forward  our  knowledge  of  the  complicated  interaction  of 
image  and  symbol  in  our  higher  mental  life?  Does  not  the  ready- 
made  formula,  here  as  elsewhere,  check  the  patient  analysis  of  de- 
tail, which  is  most  fruitful  in  real  knowledge?  Wundt  does  not 
pause  for  questions  of  this  kind,  but  makes  merry  with  the  whole 
theory,  gravely  suggesting  that  instead  of  saying  the  sensory  cell 
deposits  a  memory  in  the  memory  cell,  we  should  treat  the  memory 


cell  as  an  organism  which  feeds  on  the  sensory  cell,  an  hypothesis 
which  he  elaborates  with  somewhat  ponderous  Teutonic  wit.  Finally 
he  points  out  that  this  hypothetical  anatomy  is  of  even  less  value  to 
the  physiologist  than  to  the  psychologist. 

Much  of  the  content  of  Wundt's  final  and  longest  chapter  on 
psychic  causality  was  anticipated  in  my  introduction  to  this  discus- 
sion. Specific  psychic  causality  is  found  in  all  real  processes  of  the 
mental  life.  For  the  intensive  quote t  the  sensation,  has  real  existence 
for  consciousness  only  in  space  and  time,  and  space  and  time,  as  we 
have  seen,  are  products  of  creative  psychic  syntheses.  Wundt's  in- 
sistence on  this  point  might  seem  an  injustice  to  Ziehen,  who  ex- 
plicitly recognizes  that  the  projection  of  our  sensations  into  space  is 
"one  of  those  psychological  facts  that  are  as  yet  incomprehensible 
in  the  light  of  physiological  psychology,  and  that  perhaps  will 
always  remain  so."  The  fact  is  that  in  this  controversy  each  party 
has  borrowed  all  that  is  available  of  the  dialectical  equipment  of  the 
adversary,  and  that  while  they  try  to  magnify  their  differences,  their 
real  difference  is  mainly  one  of  taste  in  the  statement  of  transcen- 
dental or  irreducible  problems.  Wundt  attaches  value  to  the  psy- 
chological analysis  of  our  spatial  perceptions.  Ziehen  does  not;  but 
it  cannot  be  said  that  Ziehen  attempts  to  explain  space  by  physiolog- 
ical processes.  Similarly  of  the  controversy  about  memory,  repro- 
duction and  association.  The  so-called  laws  of  association  are 
barren  formulae,  he  tells  us.  The  true  explanation  of  any  concrete 
association  is  to  be  sought  in  the  entire  content  of  the  consciousness 
as  determined  by  the  totality  of  its  history  and  original  endowment. 
This  of  course  is  an  endless  series.  The  physiological  psychologists 
would  simplify  the  problem  by  substituting  the  totality  of  the  brain 
or  nervous  system,  thus  shutting  us  off  from  all  real  study  of  the 
facts.  For  psychological  analysis  can  to  some  extent  ascertain  the 
facts  in  the  past  history  of  a  given  mind  that  determine  a  given 
associative  reaction,  but  psycho-physics  is  limited  to  the  barren 
generalization  that  the  total  consciousness  is  a  reflection  of  the  total 
state  of  the  brain.  The  psychological  analysis,  however,  will 
always  remain  on  the  border  line  between  literature  and  science, 
and  will  not  appeal  to  those  who  lack  Wundt's  literary  skill  or  whose 
minds  are  dominated  by  the  ideal  of  causation  that  prevails  in  the 
physical  sciences. 

In  conclusion  the  author  asks  if  it  is  possible  to  formulate  defi- 
nite laws  of  psychic  causality.  In  the  sense  in  which  we  speak  of 
Kepler's  or  Galileo's  laws,  no.  For  the  most  characteristic  psychic 
states  are  determinations  of  quality  and  worth,  which  do  not  admit 


of  quantitative  formulation.  By  way  of  summing  up  the  whole  dis- 
cussion, however,  Wundt  sets  up  two  or  three  principles  as  specific 
notes  or  marks  of  psychic  causality.  First,  the  principle  of  pure 
actuality  of  process.  This  is  in  substance  an  adaptation  to  modern 
conceptions  of  Aristotle's  doctrine  that  thought  is  pure  energy  and 
does  not  exist  as  a  potentiality.  Psychic  causes  in  all  cases  must  be 
real  psychic  events,  for  which  it  is  not  possible  to  substitute 
1  things '  and  their  potencies,  whether  in  the  shape  of  a  substantial 
soul,  faculties,  ready-made  ideas  or  physiological  processes.  The 
temporary  suspension  of  our  consciousness  is  no  objection  to  this 
view,  Wundt  thinks,  provided  a  connection  can  be  made  out  across 
the  gap.  How  he  would  deal  with  double  and  split-off  conscious 
personalities  he  does  not  indicate.  This  psychic  causality  is  directly 
and  intuitively  perceived  by  self-observation,  and  thereby  differs 
from  physical  causality,  which  is  purely  hypothetical  and  conceptual. 
It  is  here  that  the  fundamental  opposition  between  Wundt  and  the 
opposite  school,  who  hold  ultimately  of  Hume,  appears.  They 
would  deny  that  we  perceive  in  the  sequence  of  our  thoughts  a  con- 
straining causal  force  any  more  than  in  the  communication  of  force 
from  one  billiard  ball  to  another. 

With  the  principle  of  creative  synthesis  we  are  already  familiar 
as  the  main  idea  of  the  whole  book.  The  elements  used  by  mechani- 
cal philosophers  and  psychologists  in  their  constructions  lack  the 
qualities  and  the  values  of  the  real  world  of  our  experience.  These 
qualities  cannot  be  got  out  of  the  elements  unless  we  grant  the 
creative  activity  of  the  mind  at  each  stage  of  the  process.  This 
principle,  asserted  against  the  Epicureans  by  the  ancients,  is  a  con- 
clusive refutation  of  all  attempts,  from  Lucretius  to  Herbert 
Spencer,  to  evolve  the  heterogeneous  out  of  the  homogeneous. 
Wundt  is  then  sound  in  his  main  contention,  as  he  is  in  affirming 
that  the  task  of  psychology  is  to  trace  the  operation  of  this  creative 
synthesis,  rather  than  to  elaborate  unverifiable  conjectures  with 
regard  to  its  physical  parallels.  What  I  cannot  comprehend  is  his 
denial  of  the  physical  parallelism.  Suppose,  for  argument's  sake, 
that  our  analysis  has  reached  elementary  units.  If  these  units  are 
both  psychic  and  physical,  the  psychic  element  has  its  physical 
parallel,  which  yet  in  no  way  accounts  for  its  quote.  Why,  then,  in 
the  same  sense,  may  not  combinations  of  the  one  set  of  elements 
correspond  in  all  cases  to  combinations  of  the  other,  though  not  ex- 
plaining the  specific  quality  that  attaches  to  the  compound?  Will  he 
say  that  it  is  because  the  only  conceivable  combination  of  the  physi- 
cal elements  is  spatial  and  temporal,  and  space  and  time  themselves 


exist  only  as  products  of  the  psychic  syntheses,  and  imply  a  pre-ex- 
isting consciousness  capable  of  forming  such  syntheses?  But  is  not 
this  falling  back  into  that  idealistic  denial  of  *  objects '  from  which 
we  were  told  psychology  (like  the  other  sciences)  must  provisionally 
make  abstraction?  And  does  it  not  require  for  its  explanation  a 
complete  statement  of  the  idealistic  philosophy  of  Wundt?  And  as 
I  said  in  the  beginning,  can  we  be  sure  that  it  means  anything  very 
different  from  Miinsterberg's  admission  that  the  fact  of  conscious- 
ness, as  a  whole,  has  no  counterpart  in  the  physical  world?  Thus 
while  we  all  agree  in  deprecating  the  contamination  of  psychology 
with  metaphysics,  psychological  literature  is  largely  occupied  with 
controversy  over  metaphysical  conceptions  introduced  by  the  back 
door.  PAUL  SHOREY. 



Dr.  Munsterberg  begins  a  paper  on  this  subject  (PSYCHOLOGICAL 
REVIEW,  vol.  i,  p.  39)  by  stating  that  the  popular  and  generally  re- 
ceived view  is  that  attention  does  intensify  our  sensations.  Com- 
mon introspection  certainly  avers  that  attention  as  sensing  effort 
generally,  and  within  certain  limits,  is  rewarded  by  increase  of  sen- 
sation. If  I  wish  to  hear  better  I  listen  harder;  that  is,  I  raise  the 
sensation  to  stronger  intensity  by  attending.  I  look  for  a  dim  star, 
I  find  it,  and,  increasing  my  cognitive  effort,  it  appears  brighter  up 
to  a  certain  maximum  dependent  on  my  state  of  health,  training,  etc. 
The  keenest,  most  effortful  glance  gets  the  strongest  sensation  of  a 
given  light  stimulus. 

Fechner's  observation  that  gray  paper  does  not  appear  lighter  the 
harder  we  look  at  it,  does  not  destroy  the  fact  that  the  more  intensely 
we  sense  gray,  the  stronger  is  our  sensation  of  it.  And  it  must  also 
be  said  that  a  dark  object  may  with  greater  attention  be  discerned 
as  gray,  and  dark  gray  as  light  gray;  that  is,  where  attention  means 
not  closeness  of  scrutiny,  which  often  tends  to  close  the  eyes,  but  a 
wide  open-eyed  attempt  to  get  full  impression. 

Further,  the  general  theory  of  evolution  leads  us  to  suppose  that 
only  by  attention  has  sensing  and  perceiving  arisen  and  been  de- 
veloped in  the  struggle  of  life.  It  is  by  trying  hard  that  the  animal 
sees',  and  the  harder  it  tries  the  more  intensely  it  sees.  Originally, 
then,  a  sensation  becomes  intense  by  attention  as  intensifying  act, 
the  sensing  act  is  achieved  and  developed  to  various  intensities  only 
by  and  as  cognitive  effort.  How  is  it,  then,  that  an  intense  sound 


gives  us  involuntarily,  without  the  least  effort,  an  intense  sensation? 
This,  we  answer,  is  due  to  the  efforts  of  ancestors  for  ages  who  at  first 
were  unable  to  hear  the  loudest  sounds,  but  gradually  achieved  the 
hearing  them,  and  hearing  them  intensely,  and  this  tendency,  per- 
fected and  integrated  as  useful  in  the  struggle  of  existence,  has  been 
transmitted  to  us,  in  whom  it  acts  automatically. 

We  believe,  then,  that  if  struggle  or  nisus  is  the  fundamental 
power  in  the  evolution  of  consciousness,  then  consciousness  inten- 
sities of  all  kinds  must  be  traced  to  attention;  and  so  in  the  evolution 
of  sense,  attention  is  practically  synonymous  with  sensation  intensity. 
This  does  not  deny  that  in  certain  cases  of  thoroughly  integrated 
and  automatic  sensation  cognitive  volition  when  applied  may  be  a 
hindrance,  may  reduce  intensity  and  effectiveness  of  the  sensation 
which  always  appear  merely  as  a  given.  But  this  is  of  minor  moment 
in  a  general  discussion  of  attention.  That  we  hear,  and  hear  intense- 
ly, without  listening,  is  because  our  innumerable  ancestors  listened, 
and  listened  hard.  And  so  if  future  generations  are  to  have  certain 
forms  and  intensities  of  sensation  come  to  them,  it  will  be  by  our  at- 

It  may  be  evident,  but  it  deserves  emphasis,  that  we  do  not  mean 
by  sensation-attention,  attending  to  a  sensation.  It  is  sufficient  to 
know  that  where  we  now  have  intense  sensations  without  intense  at- 
tention, and  without  attention  at  all,  this  is  not  original  and  natural 
method,  and  that  even  now  in  general,  when  we  wish  to  intensify 
our  sensations,  we  exert  cognitive  effort,  and  with  success.  Ex- 
pressed physiologically,  it  is  the  doctrine  that  function  determines 
organ;  that  we  see,  not  because  we  have  eyes,  but  we  have  eyes  be- 
cause we  see.  The  sensing  effort  has  developed  the  eye,  and  by 
visual  effort  we  now  open  the  eyes  wide  and  accommodate  them,  etc., 
thus  securing  intensity  of  sensation.  Attending  to  a  sensation  is 
weakening  to  the  sensation  attended  to.  Thus,  when  absorbed  in 
listening  to  music,  some  one  asks  me,  *  Do  you  hear  that  false  note?' 
the  attention  to  the  sensation  as  such  weakens  or  destroys  the  sen- 
sation. Sensation-attention  is  not  for  us  a  consciousness  outside  of 
and  directed  to  sensation,  but  sensing  activity  itself  as  cognitive 
effort.  Nor  is  attention,  as  Mr.  Shand  implies,  (Mind,  Oct.,  1894) 
a  'letting  alone,'  an  isolating  to  see  if  a  psychosis  will  strengthen,  or 
will  weaken  and  disappear.  This  hereditary  spontaneous  force  of  a 
cognition  is  the  integrated  result  of  past  attentions,  but  is  itself  very 
different  from  attention  as  cognitive  effort. 

Believing,  then,  that  sensation  intensities  are  bound  up  with  at- 
tention intensities  as  a  general  fact  of  mind,  we  were  interested  to 


see  how  Dr.  Miinsterberg's  experiments  would  bear  on  this  law,  to 
which  he  alludes  in  his  opening  remarks  as  the  scope  of  his  inquiry. 
However,  we  discover  that  it  is  only  a  certain  kind  of  attention,  ex- 
pectant, and  a  certain  kind  of  this,  too  much  expectancy,  that  is 
really  treated,  with  the  result  that  sensations  of  light,  sound,  etc., 
are  rendered  less  intense  when  we  set  our  attention  at  too  high  a 
notch.  The  familiar  experience  of  lifting  falsely  estimated  weights 
is  appealed  to  in  a  general  way,  but  let  us  particularize.  I  see  a 
two-pound  wooden  ball,  which  I  take  to  be  a  ten-pound  iron  ball,  and 
making  muscular  pre-adjustment,  according  to  my  misjudgment,  it 
lifts  'as  light  as  a  feather;'  I  do  not  get  the  impression  of  a  two- 
pound  ball  lifted  with  more  just  preparation  or  in  a  mere  casual  way. 
Thus  sensations  of  weight  may  in  intensity  be  inversely  relative  to 
the  effort  put  forth.  So  if  I  am  bid  to  look  for  a  bright  light  or 
listen  for  a  loud  sound,  and  only  slight  stimuli  actually  occur,  the 
sensations  will  be  actually  slighter  in  intensity  than  they  would  other- 
wise have  been;  the  light  does  not  seem  so  bright  nor  the  sound  so 
loud  as  when  no  pre-adjustment  has  been  made.  Now  this  result  is 
not  really  *  unexpected,'  but  is  quite  the  'popular  view.'  We  all 
know  the  answer  which  is  commonly  returned  to  those  who  realize 
certain  sensations  rather  feebly,  'you  set  your  hopes  too  high.' 

But  pre-adjustment  may  be  too  little  as  well  as  too  much — a  fact 
which  Dr.  Miinsterberg  does  not  notice — and  the  consequence  is  an 
undue  increasing  of  intensity  of  sensation.  When  coming  down 
stairs,  and  inadvertently  taking  two  steps  at  a  time,  you  have  a  pe- 
culiar abnormal  increase  of  intensity  of  sensation,  seeming  to  drop  a 
very  long  distance,  altogether  disproportional  to  the  actual  distance, 
and  this  result  is  plainly  owing  to  the  wrong  degree  of  pre-adjust- 
ment. Similarly  for  sensations  of  light,  sound,  etc.,  it  is  a  common 
experience  that  under-adjustment  means  over-intensifying  sensation. 
It  is  only  when  pre-conception  and  pre-adjustment  are  in  a  certain 
exact  relation  to  stimuli  that  sensation  occurs  without  abnormal 
heightening  or  lowering.  It  is  well  known  that  reaction-time  is 
lessened  by  correct  expectant  attention. 

The  conditions  and  methods  of  the  experiments  call  for  some 
criticism.  The  agents  were  directed  to  have  their  attention  '  fully  ' 
occupied  with  adding  numbers.  Now,  adding  is  a  process  which  is 
with  most  educated  persons  more  or  less  automatic  unless  at  top 
speed.  But  what  is  '  full '  attention  ?  Is  it  a  scientifically  determi- 
nable  state,  and  one  which  can  be  induced  as  readily  as  securing  air 
full  of  moisture  at  what  we  term  saturation  point?  How  can  the 
experimenter  be  sure  of  attention  at  a  certain  degree?  The  inexact- 


ness  of  experimental  psychics  as  compared  with  physics  is  certainly 
great.  The  intensity  of  cognitive  effort  is  neither  easily  discernible 
or  measurable.  However,  we  may  say  this,  that  attention  at  it& 
strongest,  is  complete  absorption  of  psychic  capacity,  and  an  agent 
in  this  state  as  regards  adding  effort  would  be  entirely  insensible 
to  any  stimuli.  Further,  full  attention  can  only  be  reached  by  the 
full  interest.  When  life  for  a  wrecked  sailor  hangs  on  his  seeing  a 
certain  beacon,  then  the  intense  interest  is  secured  which  assures 
intensest  attention.  But  having,  if  possible,  secured  the  highest  at- 
tentions of  several  individuals,  these  attentions  cannot  be  lumped 
together  as  identical  in  value.  The  tensile  strength  of  iron  bars  of 
a  given  quality  may  be  determined  as  equal,  and  the  results  used  as 
a  general  value;  but  attention,  as  all  mentality,  has  an  individual 
equation.  Again,  it  may  be  that  the  method  of  measuring  intensity 
of  sensation  employed  is  the  only  feasible  one,  namely,  judging  in- 
tensity by  the  estimation  the  subject  puts  upon  intensity  of  stimulus, 
still  its  inexactness  is  obvious.  If  a  man  says  after  lifting  two  rocks, 
one  is  twice  as  heavy  as  the  other,  are  we  thereby  certain  that  one 
sensation  was  twice  the  intensity  of  the  other,  or  may  not  the  man 
judge  also  from  other  methods  ?  At  least  the  method  ought  not  to 
be  assumed  without  criticism  and  validation. 

Further,  Dr.  Miinsterberg  finally  explains  attention  as  reducing 
intensity  of  sensation  by  feeling  of  strain.  A  tenseness  of  attention 
introduces  a  feeling  of  strain,  which  decreases  the  sensation  felt. 
Sense  of  strain  is  undoubtedly  divisive  of  consciousness,  if  with  Dr, 
Miinsterberg  we  interpret  it  as  feeling  of  intensity.  However,  we 
do  not  gain  anything  by  considering  intensity  of  feeling  as  feeling  of 
intensity.  I  have  an  intenser  light  sensation  from  the  sun  than 
from  a  candle,  but  if  I  say  the  intenser  sensation  is  such  by  virtue 
of  the  greater  feelings  of  tension,  this  means  no  more  than  that  in- 
tensity of  the  sensation  depends  upon  a  sensation  of  an  intense  sen- 
sation, which  latter  intensity  has  to  be  explained,  and  so  on.  How- 
ever, as  I  have  pointed  out,  (Mind,  XIV.,  p.  538)  it  is  desirable  to 
understand  intensity  not  as  a  consciousness,  but,  like  duration,  as  a 
quality.  Every  consciousness,  including  consciousness  of  intensity, 
has  its  intensity,  which  may  or  may  not  be  felt  or  attended  to. 
Strictly  speaking,  the  intensity  of  my  sensation — a  feeling  intensely — 
is  never  feeling  of  intensity,  consciousness  of  intensity. 

Still  further,  the  'chosen  graduation  of  the  stimuli'  must  be 
justified  in  the  light  of  Weber's  law,  and  the  time  intervals  must  also 
have  their  justification.  The  relation  of  change  in  time  in  attention 
and  inattention  and  unattention  to  the  problem  of  sensation  inten- 


sity  must  also  be  investigated  if  any  satisfactory  result  is  to  be  ob- 
tained. To  get  exact  results  in  experimental  psychology  in  general 
is  then,  I  am  persuaded,  an  enormously  difficult  task.  The  complex- 
ity of  adult  human  consciousness  is  so  great  that  it  seems  well  nigh 
impossible  to  isolate  the  factors  we  are  studying,  and  to  secure 
identical  reactions  in  a  sufficiently  large  number  of  cases  to  prove  a 
psychic  law.  Physical  conditions  are  far  more  under  our  control 
than  psychical,  and  are  far  easier  to  observe,  and  hence  physical 
science  has  arrived  at  a  consensus  which  is  notably  lacking  in  psychi- 
cal. Essential  preliminaries  must  first  be  settled  before  experimen- 
tal psychology  can  really  be  fruitful,  and  the  relation  of  attention  to 
intensity  of  sensation  requires  far  closer  definition  of  subject  and 
method  than  has  yet  been  given  it,  if  results  of  large  scientific  value 
are  to  be  obtained.  HIRAM  M.  STANLEY. 



Serious  and  courteous  criticism  from  the  pen  of  a  thinker,  skilled 
in  the  subject  of  discussion,  is  certainly  in  all  cases  to  be  welcomed 
by  an  author,  and  I  feel  much  gratification  in  reading  Dr.  Santay- 
ana's  remarks  upon  my  lately-published  book1  in  the  July  number  of 
this  REVIEW.  • 

There  are  one  or  two  points  raised  in  the  review  which  I  think 
it  worth  while  to  discuss. 

In  the  first  place,  in  the  interest  of  psychological  advance  I  must 
deprecate  the  implication  of  the  opening  paragraphs  ;  viz. :  that 
the  writer  of  what  aims  to  be  a  scientific  discussion  of  pyschologic 
doctrine  is  no  great  sinner  if  he  consider  the  claims  of  literary 
aesthetics  in  his  exposition,  where  there  is  the  slightest  chance  that 
the  clearness  and  definiteness  of  his  meaning  may  thereby  suffer. 

I  regret  much  more  than  my  critic  can  do  that  the  book  is  so  un- 
attractive in  its  literary  quality,  but  on  the  whole  I  do  not  feel 
confident  that  I  could  have  made  it  more  pleasing  had  I  not  deemed 
it  of  the  utmost  importance  to  aim  at  accuracy  and  to  waive  verbal 
preferences  in  favor  of  precision. 

I  am  free  to  confess  that  the  reading  over  and  over  again  of  my 
proofs  has  produced  within  me  a  deep-seated  digust  with  many  phrasess 
in  the  book,  notably  with  the  compound  word  pleasure-pain  ;  but  what 
authorized  substitute  could  I  have  used  in  this  case  save  the  word 

1  Pain,  Pleasure  and  ^Esthetics. 


'feeling'? — a  word  which  is  truly  much  more  euphonious  than  the 
one  employed,  but  entirely  devoid  of  accuracy.  I  do  not  wish  to 
excuse  the  evil  complained  of  by  my  critic,  a  cleverer  writer  might 
have  overcome  it ;  but  I  think  that  it  would  have  been  all  wrong  to 
have  chosen  in  any  case  literary  worth  as  against  definiteness,  in 
such  a  work. 

I  raise  this  point  principally  because  I  feel  that  psychologists  to- 
day are  too  often  careless  in  this  regard.  They  are  too  apt  to 
discard  in  disgust  an  awkward  but  accurate  term  or  phrase  and  to 
use  in  its  place  something  of  better  aesthetic  quality  but  decidedly 
inferior  in  definiteness.  Or  they  go  even  further  and  add  emphasis  to 
unimportant  particulars  by  the  attractive  nature  of  some  form  of 
speech  or  of  some  chance  illustration.  The  extraordinary  miscon- 
ception of  Prof.  James'  emotional  theory  by  other  psychologists,  to 
which  he  draws  attention  in  the  September  number  of  this  REVIEW, 
may  in  my  opinion  be  partly  accounted  for  in  this  way.  I  have  in 
mind  a  case  in  which  I  myself  entirely  lost  the  drift  of  an  interesting 
argument  presented  in  a  paper  read  before  the  last  meeting  of  the 
Psychological  Association,  because  my  mind  refused  to  be  dragged 
away  from  the  aesthetic  contemplation  of  a  happily-used  and  beautiful 
quotation  to  the  hard  thinking  required  in  following  the  course  of 
the  argument. 

In  the  field  which  I  touch  the  preference  of  euphonious  but 
inaccurate  terms  and  phrases,  where  '  barbarous '  but  accurate  ones 
could  be  found,  has  been  especially  unfortunate  in  result. 

I  am  very  sure,  for  instance,  that  much  of  the  voluminous  litera- 
ture of  the  subject  of  which  I  have  treated  would  have  remained 
unpublished  had  the  authors  avoided  the  use  of  *  Gefilhl '  in  German 
and  *  Feeling '  in  English.  Had  they  used  '  pleasure-pain  '  (or  some 
better  equivalent)  when  and  only  when  they  meant  it  and  nothing 
else,  many  of  their  most  effective  periods  would  have  become 
evidently  illogical  or  irrelevant.  My  critic  shall  furnish  me  with  an 
example  of  the  danger.  It  is  much  pleasanter  to  speak  of  the  aes- 
thetic as  determined  by  pleasures  of  memory,  than  by  pleasures  of 
revival ;  and  to  avoid  repetition  I  did  give  way  once,  I  believe, 
and  use  that  term  in  one  of  the  statedly  popular  summaries.  But 
the  pleasures  of  memory  are  not  all  that  I  refer  to.  A  memory  is  a 
special  kind  of  revival.  Revival  therefore  is  a  much  broader  term 
than  memory.  What  I  refer  to  are  revival  pleasures,  and  the  use  of 
the  word  memory  in  this  connection  at  once  limits  the  thought  of  the 
reader  to  definite  objects  :  With  my  critic,  the  notion  that  the  two 


terms  are  interchangeable  has  led  him  at  times  to  misconceive  to 
some  extent  the  thesis  presented  for  examination. 

What  has  worried  me  indeed  has  been  not  so  much  the  failures 
of  style,  to  which  Dr.  Santayana  calls  attention,  as  the  conscious- 
ness that  I  may  possibly  have  been  guilty  of  the  very  faults  of  in- 
accuracy that  I  deplore  in  others. 

But  to  turn  to  the  criticism  itself,  I  have  no  desire  to  combat 
objections  raised  except  where  they  seem  to  involve  misapprehen- 
sion, and  I  am  glad  to  say  that  I  think  all  of  Dr.  Santayana's  oppo- 
sitions, as  expressed,  will  disappear  upon  a  clearer  apprehension  of 
my  meaning. 

I  hold  that  there  is  no  "clear  distinction  between  the  sense  of 
pleasure  and  the  sense  of  beauty  "  in  impression :  and  these  last  two 
words,  that  I  add,  are  of  the  very  essence  of  my  thesis.  The  dis- 
tinction which  is  noticed  is  one  made  in  judgment  upon  revivals. 
With  these  two  words  added  to  Dr.  Santayana's  expression  I  have 
no  hesitation  in  leaving  the  cases  he  brings  forward  to  introspective 
tests.  I  am  sure  that  for  myself  when  "I  have  no  definite  object 
before  the  mind,  but  am  lost  in  a  torpid  reverie  "  which  is  pleasant, 
the  state  of  impression  is  indistinguishable  from  many  of  the  impres- 
sions that  are  called  distinctly  aesthetic  ;  e.  £-.,  the  impressions  com- 
ing to  me  as  I  listen  to  some  parts  of  Wagner's  'Tristan  and 
Isolde '  ;  and  I  have  no  hesitancy  in  holding  that  if  an  object  after- 
wards  to  be  judged  beautiful  were  to  appear  in  connection  with  this 
reverie,  the  pleasures  of  aesthetic  impression  connected  with  this 
object  would  completely  fuse  with  those  of  the  '  torpid  reverie.  * 
The  point  of  difference  lies  just  in  the  distinction  between  the 
aesthetic  judgment  and  the  aesthetic  impression,  the  former  of  which 
always  relates  to  objects  or  objective  states.  In  this  particular  case 
the  revival  of  the  state  of  *  torpid  reverie '  is  necessarily  associated 
with  the  torpid  object,  and  for  most  people  such  torpid  objects  or 
their  mental  states  are,  in  revival,  so  very  insipid  that  they  cannot 
be  noticed  to  be  pleasurable  and  are  therefore  judged  to  be  un- 
sesthetic.  Dr.  Santayana  says  "but  this  pleasure"  (of  torpid 
reverie)  "would  not  be  aesthetic,  because  I  could  not  perceive  any 
beauty,  seeing  that  no  object  is  present  to  me  in  which  that  beauty 
may  reside.  "  By  the  words  'would  not  be  aesthetic '  he  certainly 
means  "would  not  be  called  or  thought  of  in  retrospect  as 
aesthetic  "  ;  he  is  speaking  of  what  I  consider  to  be  a  judgment  as 
to  the  nature  of  revivals.  His  words,  however,  would  lead  one  to 
think  that  he  considers  this  phrase  to  relate  to  the  direct  nature  of 
the  impression. 


The  other  case  mentioned  by  my  critic  is  also,  I  think,  distinctly 
in  my  favor.  It  is  perfectly  true  that  "few  pleasures  are  so  vivid  in 
revival  as  those  of  satisfied  vanity,  affection,  revenge  and  other  per- 
sonal passions,"  and  so  far  as  I  have  indulged  myself  in  these  intox- 
icants I  feel  sure  that  I  have  been  aesthetically  impressed  at  the  time. 
I  am  unable  to  draw  any  distinction  between  these  pleasurable 
impressions •,  so  long  as  they  remain  mere  impressions  and  those  other 
impressions  produced  by  what  is  acknowledged  to  be  beautiful.  The 
distinction  comes  in  the  revivals  upon  which  we  act  in  judgment, 
when  the  despicableness  of  the  self-complacency  brings  a  balance  of 
pain  to  a  man  who  is  properly  constituted.  My  critic's  examples, 
indeed,  are  not  here  very  forcible,  for,  in  the  revivals  of  the  *  personal 
passions '  mentioned,  I  am  usually  distinctly  judging  of  myself  as 
worthy  in  some  respect  and  therefore  as  an  aesthetic  object. 

There  is  another  direction  in  which  I  wish  to  make  my  position 
clearer.  I  am  one  of  those  who  think  that  too  much  emphasis  is 
given  to-day  in  some  quarters  to  the  physiological  basis  of  psychol- 
ogy. I  am  heartily  in  sympathy  with  any  investigations  that  can 
throw  light  upon  psychology,  and  I  think  the  patience  and  persist- 
ency of  our  experimenters  in  psychophysics  is  most  noble,  and, 
except  so  far  as  it  is  misapplied,  it  certainly  should  be  most  heartily 
encouraged  and  applauded.  On  the  other  hand,  I  feel  with  many 
of  the  advanced  neurologists  that  we  can  only  claim  to  be  beginning 
to  understand  the  nature  of  those  neural  changes  which  form  the 
basis  of  psychic  life.  I  do  not  feel  sure  that  our  present  notions  of 
the  relation  between  mind  and  body  may  not  seem  very  crude  in  a 
few  centuries  from  now,  just  as  those  held  by  the  Greek  philoso- 
phers do  to  us  to-day. 

Just  here  it  will  be  convenient  and  appropriate  to  call  attention  to 
a  point  which  relates  to  this  subject-matter,  and  which  supports  the 
view  just  expressed.  Two  years  ago  Dr.  H.  Nichols  published  in 
the  Philosophical  Review  a  defence  of  a  theory  that  pains  are  a  species 
of  sensation.  I  argued  in  a  reply,  which  appears  again  in  my  book, 
that  this  view  is  opposed  to  psychological  evidence,  and  that  the 
facts,  mainly  physiological  and  histological,  upon  which  the  theory 
depends  for  its  support  are,  with  possibly  one  exception,  entirely 
compatible  with  other  deductions  than  those  made  by  those  uphold- 
ing the  sensational  theory.  This  one  exception  was  the  claim  made 
that  Goldscheider  had  discovered  definite  nerve-terminals  for  pain 
in  the  skin.  I  objected  that  in  this  field  the  statement  of  one  ob- 
server of  a  limited  number  of  subjects  should  be  received  with  cau- 
tion, and  I  further  noted  that  Goldscheider  had  implicitly  denied  the 


position  involved  in  his  first  statement  as  it  was  interpreted,  and 
upon  which  interpretation  Dr.  Nichols  founded  his  argument.  Dr. 
L.  Witmer  has  lately  reiterated  Dr.  Nichols'  theory  in  the  Journal  of 
Nervous  and  Mental  Diseases  for  April,  1894,  and  has  sharply  called  me 
to  task  for  being  unwilling  to  accept  as  final  Goldscheider's  supposed 
dictum.  Dr.  Collins,  in  his  review  of  my  book  in  the  same  journal, 
has  made  the  same  criticism  of  my  position  in  this  respect.  But 
now  there  comes  to  hand  a  new  book  by  Goldscheider. — '  Ueber  den 
Schmerz,  '  Berlin,  1894, — which  serves  I  think  to  teach  a  lesson  to 
all  psychologists,  and  especially  to  those  who  may  have  taken  inter- 
est in  this  discussion  ;  for  in  this  book  Goldscheider  distinctly 
denies  the  view  which  has  been  thus  attributed  to  him,  and  seems  to 
think  he  cannot  properly  have  been  held  to  be  a  defender  of  a  posi- 
tion so  evidently  untenable  ;  although  I  think  his  words  in  his  early 
publications  certainly  spoke  clearly  as  they  have  been  understood. 
Goldscheider  now  holds  (p.  7)  that  Schmerz  is  "cine  besondere 
Qualitat  der  Empfindung,  nicht  eine  alien  verschiedenen  Qualitaten 
gemeinschaftliche  Modifikation  der  Empfindung.  "  Further  (p.  13), 
"dass  die  Schmerzempfindung  den  Drucksinn  and  Gemein-gefiihls- 
nerven  eigen  ist,  alien  tibrigen  Sinnesnerven  aber  fehlt.  "  I  do  not 
appreciate  upon  what  sufficient  grounds  he  bases  his  belief  in  the 
existence  of  these  Gemeingefiihlsnerven  (see  also  p.  33)  and  of  the 
Gemeingefiihlserregungen  spoken  of  elsewhere  (see  p.  8).  He  tells 
us  further  (p.  18),  "  Hiernach  lage  es  in  der  That  nahe,  jeden 
Schmerz  als  ein  Summations-Phanomen  anzusehen,  allein  dies  gilt 
nicht  ausnahmslos  "  :  and  he  postulates  a  '  Summations-Organ  '  (see 
p.  34)  located  in  the  spinal  cord  (see  p.  19)  to  account  for  the  effects 
of  pain.  It  does  not  seem  to  me  that  we  should  receive  without 
caution  the  statements  of  an  investigator  who  makes  such  free  use 
of  unverified  hypotheses. 

Goldscheider  in  this  new  treatise,  if  he  does  nothing  else,  shows 
conclusively  that  our  knowledge  of  the  nature  of  the  neural  changes 
which  are  the  coincidents  of  pain  consciousness  is  of  the  most  in- 
definite character,  open  to  dispute  in  every  direction,  and  that  no 
physiological  or  histological  theory  relating  thereto  can  to-day  be 
held  to  be  proved.  Moreover,  so  far  as  I  can  see,  there  is  little 
reason  to  lead  us  to  hope  that  we  shall  be  able  to  reach  any  settled 
position  in  this  respect  in  the  near  future. 

This  occurrence  strengthens  within  me  the  conviction  with  which 
I  wish  more  of  our  psychologists  clearly  showed  their  sympathy, 
that  introspective  psychology  must  move  on  in  her  development 
without  waiting  for  the  positive  teaching  of  psycho-physics  ;  she 


must  of  course  endeavor  to  check  the  results  of  introspection  by 
what  becomes  known  through  psychological  investigation  ;  but  it 
would  surely  be  a  great  loss  to  philosophy  and  to  science  in  general 
if  psychology  hesitated  in  her  course  while  awaiting  clear  light  from 
this  source. 

This  being  my  view,  it  was  with  regret  that  I  found  it  impossible 
to  discuss  adequately  in  my  book  that  which  has  been  done  in  the 
past  in  reference  to  the  physiological  basis  of  pleasure  and  pain,  and 
to  suggest  the  direction  in  which  the  facts  before  us  vaguely  point, 
without  giving  relatively  much  more  space  to  the  subject  than  its 
importance  warrants. 

I  am  disappointed,  moreover,  to  find  notices  of  the  physiological 
theory  so  prominent  in  the  reviews  of  the  book,  and  especially  to 
find  Dr.  Santayana  in  this  review  taking  for  granted  that  the  basis 
of  my  aesthetic  principles  is  to  be  found  only  in  this  necessarily 
vague  physiological  theory.  In  fact  if  the  reader  will  take  the 
trouble  to  examine  the  matter  he  will  find  that  the  basis  of  these 
aesthetic  distinctions  and  principles  is  really  determined  by  intro- 
spective evidence  and  not  derived  from  physiological  hypotheses  ; 
and  that  the  physiological  correspondence,  as  it  would  appear  under 
my  theory,  is  generally  stated  in  the  chapters  dealing  with  these 
principles,  in  small  print  in  brackets.  Thus  it  appears  indeed  that 
the  psychological  aesthetic  principles  give  us  a  very  strong  corrob- 
oration  of  the  physiological  theory,  but  I  do  .not  feel  that  it  is  evi- 
dent that  these  aesthetic  principles  necessarily  fall  if  the  physical 
theory  crumble  into  dust,  as  is  implied  in  this  review,  and  as  has 
been  asserted  by  Dr.  Jos.  Collins  in  the  review  in  the  Journal  of 
Nervous  and  Mental  Diseases  above  referred  to. 

It  is  because  I  feel  the  secondary  importance  of  this  physiological 
view  that  I  am  also  greatly  disappointed  to  find  my  critic  holding 
that  my  r&&\n.  psychological  thesis  turns  upon  a  mere  matter  of  words. 
I  had  hoped  to  show  that  this  psychological  thesis  has  strength;  and 
that,  so  far  as  our  knowledge  of  the  physiological  aspect  of  the  sub- 
ject goes,  the  psychological  view  is  not  incompatible  with  that 
knowledge  ;  for  I  seem  to  see  that  if  the  psychological  view  be  true, 
and  if  it  be  carried  out  to  its  consequences,  it  may  lead  to  results  in 
other  directions  than  those  especially  studied  that  may  prove  to  be 
interesting  at  least  ;  and  I  had  hoped  that  the  results  as  brought 
forward  in  relation  to  the  emotions,  the  art  impulse,  and  the  princi- 
ples of  aesthetics,  might  appear  to  be  not  wholly  valueless,  altogether 
apart  from  any  physiological  theory  whatever.  As  this  psychological 
theory  is  in  my  view  thus  important,  I  trust  that  it  will  not  appear 


out  of  place  if  I  try  to  convince  my  critic  that  it  is  a  great  deal 
more  than  a  mere  verbal  contention  that  I  make. 

In  the  first  place  I  may  again  call  attention  to  the  dangers  at- 
tendant upon  the  aesthetic  treatment  of  what  should  be  strictly 
accurate  science.  Dr.  Santayana's  statement  of  my  proposed  defini- 
tion of  pleasure  and  pain  is  probably  pleasanter  to  his  ear  than  my 
own.  Restates  that  I  hold  them  to  be  "  qualities  either  of  which 
may  and  one  of  which  must  belong  to  every  perception  of  the  mind.  " 
But  this  is  not  the  doctrine  I  have  expressed,  unless  my  phrase 
1  each  element  of  consciousness '  is  made  equivalent  to  his  '  every 
perception  of  the  mind. '  I  do  not  think  the  two  expressions  are  at 
all  synonymous,  and  I  believe  that  one  must  avoid  the  statement  as 
made  by  him  if  one  is  to  grasp  correctly  the  thesis  and  its  impli- 

But  passing  over  this  inaccuracy,  let  us  turn  to  his  argument 
itself.  It  is  perfectly  true  that  we  may  equally  well  say  "  that  color 
is  a  quality  of  extension,  or  that  they  are  two  simultaneous  percep- 
tions, or  that  they  are  both  qualities  of  a  present  substance.  "  But 
is  it  no  gain  to  take  note  of  the  fact  that  at  times  when  there  is  no 
color  perception  at  all  there  still  may  be  a  consciousness  of  exten- 
sion ;  that  other  sensations  and  mental  modes  than  color  sensations 
have  this  consciousness  of  extension  connected  with  them  ?  Is  no 
importance  to  be  attached  to  the  thesis  that  extensity  may  be  a 
quality  of  very  wide  application  ?  Can  it  justly  be  held  that  the 
contention  of  the  present  day  in  relation  to  space,  which  turns  upon 
this  thesis,  and  in  which  the  greatest  psychological  thinkers  of  our 
time  are  involved, — that  this  contention  'turns  upon  a  matter  of 
words,  '  *  becomes  real  and  not  verbal  only  in  the  field  of  physiology '  ? 

Or  to  take  another  instance  more  to  my  liking.  The  intensity  of 
a  color  may  be  treated  as  Dr.  Santayana  treats  its  extensity.  It 
might  be  said  that  the  facts  may  be  "described  equally  well  by  say- 
ing that  color  is  a  quality  of"  intensity,  "or  that  they  are  two 
simultaneous  perceptions,  or  that  they  are  both  qualities  of  a  present 
substance.  "  But  is  it  no  gain  to  psychology  that  more  or  less  of 
intensity  is  acknowledged  to  be  a  quality  attached  to  all  elements  of 
consciousness  ?  Would  it  be  of  no  value  to  make  contention  for 
this  doctrine  were  psychology  in  so  crude  a  state  that  some  masters 
held  *  intensity '  to  be  a  species  of  sensation  ;  others  that  it  is  a  kind 
of  emotion  ;  others  that  it  is  the  fundamental  basis  of  all  psychic 
life  ;  others  of  great  weight  that  a  special  kind  of  mind,  apart  from 
our  cognitive  mind,  must  be  postulated  to  enable  us  to  grasp  intensity 
— /.  e. ,  that  intensity  is  a  mental  mode  sui  generis  ?  Could  such  con- 


tention,  if  it  were  necessary,  be  held  to  turn  upon  a  mere  matter  of 
words,  and  to  become  a  real  question  '  and  not  verbal  only  in  the 
field  of  physiology '  ?  It  is  such  a  contention  as  this  that  I  make 
for  pleasure-pain. 



In  Wundt's  article,  Zur  Lehre  von  den  Gemiithsbewegungen  (Phil. 
Stud.,  vi,  p.  364),  occurs  the  following  passage  : 

Die  Apperception  selbst  ist  nichts,  was  den  Effecten,  die  sie  am 
Vorstellungsinhalte  erzeugt,  und  den  Begleiterscheinungen,  die  sie 
im  Gebiet  des  Gefiihls  hat,  als  etwas  besonderes,  realiter  zu  tren- 
nendes  gegeniiberstande.  Vielmehr  besteht  sie  selbst  nur  aus  diesen 
Begleiterscheinungen  und  Wirkungen. 

Professor  James  exclaims,  apropos  of  the  last  sentence:  "A 
thing  that  «  consists '  of  its  concomitants ! "  (This  REVIEW,  I,  p. 
516.)  The  exclamation  is  hardly  fair  criticism.  We  read,  p.  390  of 
the  same  article: 

Zu  jenen  Begleiterscheinungen  reche  ich  in  erster  Linie  gewisse 
zu  Vorstellungen  vereinigte  Empfindungen,  in  zweiter  Linie  die 
Wiliensacte  theils  vorbereitenden  theils  mit  ihnen  unmittelbar  ver- 
bundenen  Gefiihle.  Die  letzteren  lassen  sich  jedoch  nur  auf  Grund 
der  einmal  vollzogenen  abstracten  Unterscheidung  zwischen  Ftihlen 
und  Wollen  Begleiterscheinungen  des  Willens  nennen.  In  Zusam- 
menhang  mit  der  Entwickelung  des  Willens  betrachtet,  verwandeln 
sie  sich  selbst  in  Elemente  der  Willensthatigkeit,  die  sich  aber  des- 
halb,  weil  aus  ihnen  nicht  immer  ein  actuelles  Wollen  hervorgeht, 
nun  auch  in  solchen  Fallen,  wo  dieses  eintritt,  demselben  als  begrif- 
flich  trennbare  Bestandtheile  gegeniiberstellen  lassen. 

It  is,  of  course,  really  not  much  fairer  to  quote  two  passages 
without  context  than  it  is  to  quote  one.  But  the  second  of  the 
above  citations  may  serve  to  show  that  Professor  James'  scorn  is  not 
so  undoubtedly  merited  as  might  at  first  sight  appear. 




Ueber  die  Trugwahrnehmung  (Hallucination  und  Illusion)  mit  besonderer 
Berucksichtigung  der  internationalen  enqufae  iiber  Wachhallucination 
bei  Gesunden.  EDMUND  PARISH.  Leipzig,  Abel,  1894,  [Schriften 
d.  Ges.  f.  psych.  Forschung,  Heft  7-8;  II.  Sammlung]  Pp.  246. 

The  erudition  of  Herr  Parish's  work  is  exemplary  and  admirable, 
and  in  its  text  and  footnotes  it  is  safe  to  say  that  one  may  find  ref- 
erence to  everything,  important  and  unimportant,  that  in  recent 
years  has  been  written  on  hallucinations  from  either  the  medical  or 
the  psychological  point  of  view.  The  author's  personal  contribu- 
tions to  the  subject  are  animated  by  the  laudable  desire  to  minimize 
mysteries  and  to  explain  the  exceptional  phenomena  of  which  he 
treats  by  the  laws  of  ordininary  mental  life.  The  important  points 
in  the  book  are,  first,  Herr  Parish's  general  theory  of  the  hallucina- 
tory process,  a  theory  which  he  applies  to  all  possible  cases;  and 
second,  his  verdict  of  non  liquet  upon  the  telepathic  theory  of  veridi- 
cal hallucinations  maintained  by  the  English  '  psychical  researchers. ' 

His  theory  of  the  hallucinatory  process  is  that  it  is  always  an  in- 
cident of  'dissociated*  conditions  of  consciousness.  By  a  dissociated 
condition  he  means  one  in  which  ordinary  channels  of  association 
are  obstructed.  Reviewing  the  conditions  under  which  hallucina- 
tion is  apt  to  occur,  he  finds  them  predominantly  to  be  of  this  sort. 
In  sleep,  in  the  borderland  between  sleeping  and  waking,  in  melan- 
choly, in  hysteria,  epilepsy,  the  delirum  of  fever,  of  fasting,  and  of 
certain  narcotic  poisonings,  in  hypnotism  and  crystal  gazing,  the  fact 
of  obstructed  associations  is  admitted  by  all.  Even  in  mania  and 
drunkenness,  where  association  seems  at  first  sight  rampant  enough, 
this  is  chiefly  verbal  association,  and  objective  thought  is  enfeebled 
and  slow.  The  way  in  which  dissociation  facilitates  hallucination  is 
according  to  Herr  P.,  this1  :  A  stimulus  is  always  drafted  off  into 
the  most  pervious  paths  at  the  time  being.  In  normal  association 

1  Herr  P.  expressly  bases  his  theory  on  that  of  the  hallucinatory  process  given  in 
James'  Principles  of  Psychology,  II.  ii.ff. 



these  are  the  most  habitual  paths.  But  there  are  always  many  stimuli 
at  work,  and  many  <  cerebrostatical'  conditions  determining  pervious- 
ness,  so  that  the  final  process  aroused  by  a  stimulus  is  the  result  of  an 
intricate  array  of  factors.  Whatever  path  is  followed  to  a  pause,  gives 
there  a  vivid  sensible  content  which,  in  normal  cases,  involves  a  ver- 
acious perception  of  the  object  from  which  the  stimulus  comes.  But 
if  at  any  moment  a  dissociative  condition  is  realized,  so  that  the  usual 
paths  are  blocked,  whilst  at  the  same  moment  other  accidental  paths 
are  in  a  state  of  exalted  tension  from  inner  causes,  then  into  these 
latter  the  stimulus  discharges  its  energy,  making  them  explode  with 
the  maximum  of  force  ;  so  that  the  result  is  the  perception  of  an 
object  having  no  usual  connection  with  the  stimulus,  and  by  the 
vividness  of  which  the  consciousness  of  the  latter  may  be  eclipsed. 
The  reigning  state  of  obstructed  association  moreover  weakens  the 
subject's  critical  reaction,  and  the  false  perception  is  not  only  ex- 
perienced but  believed.  This  theory  is  ably  defended  by  our  author, 
and  has  the  merit  of  being  very  general,  and  of  bringing  hallucina- 
tions and  illusions  under  a  common  law. 

Do  the  sporadic  waking  hallucinations  inquired  into  by  the 
*  Census'  of  the  International  Congress  of  Psychologists  easily  fit 
under  this  law  ?  Our  author  tries  to  make  them  do  so.  First  he 
attacks  the  truth  of  the  Census,  in  which  '  borderland '  cases  are 
hardly  more  than  half  as  numerous  as  the  'waking*  cases.  Consid- 
ering this  to  be  a  priori  impossible,  he  explains  the  actual  statistics 
plausibly  enough  by  the  greater  tendency  of  the  borderland  cases  to 
be  forgotten  (it  being  already  demonstrated  that  the  majority  of  all 
hallucinations  are  forgotten).  Next,  taking  the  alleged  waking 
cases,  he  shows  by  a  number  of  examples  that  in  them  also  dreami- 
ness or  some  other  dissociated  consciousness  may  be  supposed — The 
Subject  was  'fixating'  something,  if  no  stronger  reason  can  be  al- 
leged. I  must  say  that  Herr  Parish  seems  to  me  here  to  drive  his 
theory  a  little  too  hard.  Many  of  the  narratives  so  distinctly  be- 
long to  normal  consciousness,  that  the  better  tactics  would  be  to 
discredit  their  veracity  altogether ;  and  this  method  also,  Herr 
Parish  applies  vigorously  to  the  particular  class  of  hallucinations 
called  veridical  or  coincidental  (e.  g.,  with  the  death  of  the  person 

Prof.  Royce's  suggestion  that  the  narratives  are  often  due  to 
'pseudo-presentiment'  (false  belief,  after  the  death  has  happened, 
that  it  had  been  symbolized  by  an  apparition  previously)  is  made 
liberal  use  of,  in  spite  of  its  almost  absolutely  conjectural  character. 
The  much  sounder  objection  follows  that  genuinely  occurring  hallu- 


cinations  are  equipped  afterwards,  by  the  retrospective  imagination 
of  their  percipients,  with  details  that  fit  those  of  the  event  with 
which,  when  it  happens,  they  are  supposed  to  be  connected.  This 
especially  applies  to  them  where  they  are  collective,  the  different 
percipients  obeying  each  other's  suggestion  as  to  what  they  saw. 
Finally  the  false  appearance  of  frequency  of  hallucinations  of  the 
coincidental  class  is  explained  by  the  far  greater  tendency  of  the 
non-coincidentals  to  become  forgotten,  the  coincidentals  resisting 
oblivion.  Furthermore,  Herr  Parish  contends  that  the  '  frequency  ' 
of  the  coincidental  should  in  any  discussion  as  to  their  being  due  to 
chance  be  set  down  as  the  ratio  of  their  number  to  that  of  hallucina- 
tions of  all  varieties,  and  not  to  that  of  their  own  variety,  which-  in 
the  argument  of  the  English  committee  is  defined  as  that  of  'appa- 
ritions of  recognized  living  persons.  '  For  all  these  reasons,  Herr 
Parish  concludes,  the  alleged  frequency  of  the  veridical  class  ef 
hallucinations  becomes  so  reduced  as  to  form  no  argument  against 
the  genuine  cases  among  them  being  due  to  chance.  Moreover,  he 
adds,  we  cannot  lump  the  cases  in  one  order  of  probability;. 
Where  for  example  the  percipient  is  the  anxious  child  of  an  aged 
parent  ill  with  pneumonia,  the  chances  are  that  if  she  have  an  hallu- 
cination at  all,  it  will  have  that  parent  for  its  subject. 

Herr  Parish's  criticisms  are  partly  based  on  the  provisional  re- 
port of  the  English  committee  published  at  the  International  Congress 
of  1892.  The  committee  have  themselves  considered  such  objec- 
tions in  their  final  report,  which  forms  the  subject  of  our  next  article. 
So  I  will  immediately  proceed  to  give  some  account  of  that.  I  will 
say  meanwhile  that  this  German  critic's  tone  is  uniformly  respect- 
ful ;  that  he  himself  prints  the  59-yes  cases  of  the  Munich  Census, 
of  which  ii  are  more  or  less  coincidental  ;  and  finally  that  his  work 
is  the  most  solid  existing  contribution  to  the  subject  up  to  the  date 
of  the  report  whose  title  follows  below. 

Apparitions  and  Thought  Transference,  an  Examination  of  the  Evidence  for 
Telepathy.  FRANK  PODMORE.  Contemporary  Scientific  Series. 
New  York,  Charles  Scribner's  Sons,  1894.  12°,  pp.  401. 

Mr.  Podmore  gives  here  a  convenient  summary  of  the  work  of  the 
Society  for  Psychical  Research,  striving  to  make  the  theory  of  tele- 
pathy cover  as  much  of  the  field  as  it  can  be  stretched  over.  When 
one  sees  brought  together,  as  here  in  the  early  chapters,  the  evi- 
dence for  thought-transference  drawn  from  the  simple  experiment 
in  which  one  person  is  set  to  guessing  numbers,  drawings,  etc.,  which 
another  person  is  intently  looking-at  or  thinking-of,  one  perceives 


that  it  is  far  from  contemptible  in  either  quality  or  amount,  and 
even  if  one  is  unwilling  oneself  to  follow,  one  can  find  no  very  harsh 
names  to  apply  to  those  who,  like  Mr.  Podmore,  take  thought-trans- 
ference as  an  approved  vera  causa,  and  try  by  its  means  to  explain 
such  phenomena  as  apparitions  at  the  time  of  death,  distinct  in 
nature  as  they  appear  at  first  sight  to  be  from  the  successful  guess- 
ing of  pictures  in  another's  mind. 

The  book  mentions  successful  experiments  of  the  simple  order 
with  at  least  thirty  subjects  at  short-range,  and  this  leaves  out 
many  of  the  records  published  in  the  S.  P.  R.  Proceedings.  Of 
course  these  experiments  are  of  diverse  value,  some  of  them  being 
too  brief  or  too  faulty  in  method  to  base  strict  conclusions  on,  but 
they  all  contribute  to  the  cumulative  impression  that  chance  and 
trickery  can  with  difficulty  be  supposed  to  be  the  only  things  con- 
cerned. As  an  instance  of  a  good  series  I  take  the  observations 
of  Mrs.  Sidgwick  on  five  hypnotized  subjects  who  guessed  numbers 
drawn  by  a  third  person  from  a  bag  containing  81  lotto-counters 
{.marked  from  10  to  90,  and  handed  to  the  hypnotizer  to  gaze  at,  all 
this  of  course  out  of  sight  of  the  subject.  Out  of  644  trials  131  were 
successful,  that  is,  both  digits  were  given  correctly,  though  in  14 
out  of  the  131  cases  the  order  was  reversed.  '  Chance  '  should  only 
have  given  8  correct  guesses.  Again,  with  hypnotizer  and  subject 
in  different  rooms,  there  were  27  quite  correct  guesses,  instead  of  the 
chance-number,  3.  In  the  unsuccessful  trials  here,  the  first  digit 
came  right  85  out  of  the  252  times,  instead  of  the  chance  number, 
28.  Mrs.  Sidgwick  went  through  another  series  with  the  same 
subjects,  in  which  *  mental  pictures '  were  the  things  to  be  guessed, 
some  of  them  being  quite  complex  scenes,  in  all  108  experiments, 
of  which  33  were  correct.  Of  these  trials,  55  were  made  with  the 
agent  and  percipient  in  different  rooms,  so  that  the  successes  in  the 
same  room  were  31  out  of  71.  Practically,  since  collusion  seems 
fairly  excluded,  the  only  recourse  of  the  doubter  here  is  to  say  that 
the  series  were  too  short  and  that  farther  experimentation  would 
have  reduced  the  success  to  the  chance-number.  And  here  is 
where  the  force  of  so  many  other  successful  series,  longer  or  shorter, 
comes  in.  They  make  the  reader  feel  as  if  the  dice  must  be  in  some 
way  loaded ;  and  to  the  force  that  loads  them  Mr.  Podmore  and  his 
colleagues  have  given  a  name,  that,  namely,  of  telepathy,  in  lieu  of 
a  theory  about  it. — It  is  clear  that  many  series  of  guesses  with  more 
successes  than  the  probability  due  to  chance  can  yield,  will  not  posi- 
tively prove  that  chance  may  not  have  produced  the  result  after  all; 
and  it  is  still  clearer  that  such  statistics  are  no  guide  as  to  what  the 


positive  force  may  be.  And  here  the  other  phenomena  gone  over 
by  Mr.  Podmore  come  in  to  give  some  feeble  help.  But  they  run  into 
a  mass  of  details  ill  adapted  for  synopsis,  so  with  this  brief  notice  I 

Report  on  the  Census  of  Hallucinations.  H.  SIDGWICK,  A.  JOHNSON, 
F.  W.  H.  MYERS,  F.  PODMORE,  E.  M.  SIDGWICK.  Proceedings 
of  the  Society  of  Psychical  Research.  Part  XXVI.  Aug.,  1894. 
Vol.  X.,  pp.  25-422. 

This  extraordinarily  thorough  and  accurate  piece  of  work  is 
understood  to  be  the  fruit  mainly  of  Mrs.  Sidgwick's  labors;  and 
the  present  reviewer,  who  has  had  a  little  experience  of  his  own  with 
the  'Census,'  and  knows  something  of  its  difficulties,  may  be 
allowed  to  pay  his  tribute  of  admiration  to  the  energy  and  skill 
with  which  that  lady  and  the  other  members  of  the  committee  have 
executed  their  burdensome  task.  They  collected  no  fewer  than 
17,000  answers  to  the  question:  have  you  had,  when  awake,  etc.,  an 
hallucination,  etc.  Of  these  answers  2,272  were  'yes,'  and  these 
Yes-cases  were  corresponded  with  or  interviewed  or  in  other  ways 
subjected  to  as  critical  a  scrutiny  as  circumstances  allowed.  The  re- 
sult is  an  unusually  careful  handling  of  the  raw  material  offered,  and 
a  great  accession  of  new  facts.  The  census  of  hallucination  was,  as 
is  well  known,  an  idea  of  the  late  Edmund  Gurney,  who  thought  that 
the  theory  of  chance-coincidence  applied  to  'apparitions'  reported 
as  occurring  on  the  day  of  death  of  the  person  appearing  might  be 
tested  by  statistics.  Gurney  himself  collected  5705  answers,  and, 
applying  statistical  reasoning  to  them,  thought  it  superabundantly 
proved  that  the  'veridical'  cases  amongst  them  were  too  frequent  to 
be  due  to  chance.  The  Sidgwick  report,  unlike  that  of  Herr  Parish, 
keeps  the  Gurney  question  well  to  the  front,  and  its  general  discus- 
sion of  the  physiological  and  other  conditions  of  the  hallucinatory 
process  is  less  erudite  and  elaborate  than  that  of  the  German  writer. 
I  will  quote  immediately  the  conclusions  of  the  report  as  to  ap- 
paritions at  the  time  of  death.  "We  have  30  death-coincidences  in 
1300  cases  [of  visual  hallucination  of  recognized  living  persons]  or 
about  i  in  43.  But  chance  would  ....  produce  death-coinci- 
dences at  the  rate  of  i  in  19,000  apparitions  of  recognized  living 
persons,  and  i  in  43  is  equivalent  to  about  440  in  19,000,  or  440  times 
the  most  probable  number.  Or,  looking  at  the  matter  in  a  different 
way,  we  should  expect  that  if  death-coincidences  only  occur  by 
chance,  it  will  require  30  times  19,000,  or  570,000  apparitions  of  liv- 
ing persons  to  produce  30  such  coincidences We  eon- 


elude  then  that  the  number  of  death-coincidences  in  our  collection, 
if  our  estimate  of  them  is  accepted  as  fair,  is  not  due  to  chance. 
This  will  not  be  maintained  by  anyone  with  the  most  elementary  ac- 
quaintance with  the  doctrine  of  chances.  The  opponent  of  a  tele- 
pathic or  other  supernormal  explanation  must  take  one  of  three 
•other  lines  of  argument,  .  .  .  even  one  death-coincidence  being 
more  than  we  should  be  justified  in  expecting  chance  to  produce  in  a 
collection  ten  times  the  size  of  ours"  (p.  247-8). 

Everything  in  this  conclusion  depends  on  the  numerical  premises 
being  severally  reached  in  legitimate  ways. 

In  the  first  place,  take  the  assumption  that  out  of  19,000  appari- 
tions of  the  sort  considered,  only  i  should  be  expected  to  occur  on 
the  day  of  death  of  the  person  seen.  This  is  based  on  the  mean 
death-rate  of  England.  Since  in  England  the  mean  annual  death- 
rate  at  present  is  19.15  per  1,000  of  population,  the  mean  daily 
death-rate  must  be  365  times  less,  or  i  in  about  19,000.  All  daily 
operations  concerning  persons,  if  not  directly  contingent  upon  their 
death,  would  under  these  conditions  be  more  likely  to  strike  the 
living  than  the  dying  in  the  proportion  of  19,000  to  i,  and  this  no 
matter  how  frequent  or  infrequent  absolutely  such  operations  should 
prove  to  be.  Apparitions  are  operations  concerning  persons;  and 
whether  such  apparitions  be  as  frequent  as  dreams,  or  whether  they 
be  very  rare,  whether  a  large  fraction  or  a  small  fraction  of  the 
population  be  visited  by  them,  we  should  expect  (if  they  be  due  to 
mere  chance)  always  to  find  this  proportion  observed,  that  only 
iflooo  of  them  should  be  of  people  who  were  dying  on  the  day  when 
their  apparition  took  place.  [This  'day'  is  measured  in  the  report 
by  the  12  hours  preceding  and  the  12  hours  following  the  death.] 
To  the  present  writer  this  reasoning  and  computation  seem  valid.1 

1  In  particular  does  the  contention  of  Herr  Parish  (see  the  article  on  him,  above, 
ad  finent)  seems  inadmissible.  He  says  that  in  estimating  the  probability  that  appari- 
tions at  the  time  of  death  are  due  to  something  more  than  chance  we  ought  to  measure 
their  frequency  by  the  ratio  of  their  number  to  that  of  the  aggregate  of  all  phantasms 
of  whatsoever  description.  He  would  even  include  illusions,  since  the  process  of 
illusion  and  hallucination  are  for  him  fundamentally  the  same.  To  base  an  argument 
on  the  ratio  between  the  number  of  veridical  death-apparitions  and  that  of  merely  all 
apparitions  of  recognized  living  persons ;  he  says,  is  a  petitio  principii.  The  point  is 
a  subtle  one,  and  may  well  make  one  momentarily  hesitate,  but  reflection  leaves  no 
permanent  doubt.  We  have  three  orders  of  frequency  in  hallucinations  to  consider,  that 
of  hallucinations  at  large,  that  of  hallucinations  of  persons,  and  that  of  hallucinations 
of  dying  persons.  These  may  be  caused  by  their  respective  objects,  or  may  come  at 
'random,'  their  causes  lying  exclusively  in  the  subjective  cycle.  The  point  is  to  see 
whether  anything  in  the  frequency  itself  can  help  us  to  decide  which  of  these  alterna- 
tives is  the  true  one.  Now  with  what  frequency  in  outer  things  might  these  frequencies 


Next,  how  are  the  numbers  1,300,  for  the  whole  number  of 
visual  apparitions  of  recognized  living  persons,  and  30  for  the  coin- 
cidental ones  among  them,  established  ?  Neither  of  these  numbers 
is  that  of  the  crude  face  of  the  census-returns,  each  being  a  number 
estimated  by  applying  certain  corrections  to  those  returns,  the  cor- 
rections all  being  such  as  to  weight  the  figures  in  favor  of  chance- 
coincidence  as  far  as  this  can  with  any  plausibility  be  done.  The 
crude  returns  certainly  include  an  unduly  large  percentage  of  coin- 
cidental apparitions,  partly  because  a  large  number  of  non-coinci- 
dental ones  are  speedily  forgotten  and  do  not  figure  in  the  returns, 
and  partly  because,  of  the  coincidental  ones,  some  are  likely  to  have 
been  put  in  by  careless  collectors  on  account  of  that  character,  and 
not  to  have  simply  turned  up  in  the  census-taking  by  due  process  of 
chance.  Now  can  any  definite  estimate  be  made  of  the  amount  of 
error  that  has  crept  into  the  census  from  these  sources  ?  The 
authors  of  the  report  find,  by  comparing  the  dates  of  the  returns, 
that  cases  are  the  more  frequent  the  more  recent  they  are.  This 
proves  a  forgetfulness  increasing  with  antiquity.  The  obvious  remedy 
would  be,  ascertaining  what  recent  period  could  be  taken  as  trust- 
worthy, to  find  out  how  many  hallucinations  had  visited  the 
persons  figuring  in  the  census  during  that  time,  and  then  to  treat 

in  hallucinations  keep  tally  in  the  two  cases,  of  outer  causation  and  of  no  outer  causa- 
tion respectively  ?  Obviously  if  persons  do  not  cause  hallucinations  of  themselves, 
the  hallucinations  of  persons  should  be  no  more  frequent  among  hallucinations  than 
persons  are  frequent  among  all  the  things  that  may  become  objects  of  hallucinations  ; 
whilst  on  the  contrary,  if  persons,  and  persons  alone,  do  cause  hallucinations,  then 
hallucinations  of  persons  should  be  relatively  more  frequent  than  other  hallucinations, 
because  the  causation  by  the  real  outer  object  would  be  simply  added,  for  this  class  alone, 
to  the  random  inner  causes  that  produce  hallucinations  in  general.  Similarly  if  the  deaths 
of  persons  do  not  tend  to  cause  hallucinations  of  those  persons,  the  hallucinations  of 
the  dying  should  be  no  more  frequent  among  hallucinations  of  persons  than  the  dying 
themselves  are  frequent  among  persons ;  whilst  if  on  the  contrary  the  dying,  and  the 
dying  alone  among  persons,  do  cause  hallucinations  of  themselves,  then  these  hallu- 
cinations should  be  more  frequent  among  hallucinations  of  persons  than  the  dying  are 
among  the  whole  population  of  persons.  This  latter  ratio  is  what  the  Sidgwick  com- 
mittee finds  realized  in  fact ;  hence  its  conclusion  that  the  dying  do  cause  halluci- 
nations of  themselves.  Herr  Parish's  selection  of  the  total  number  of  hallucinations 
iiberhaupt  as  one  subjective  term  of  comparison  leads  to  a  statistical  test  which  is  also 
true  in  theory,  provided  the  corresponding  objective  terms  be  altered  to  match.  We 
shall  then  have  (if  dying  persons  do  not  cause  hallucinations  of  themselves)  this  propor- 
tion :  As  is  the  ratio  of  real  dying  persons  to  all  other  real  things,  so  at  its  highest 
should  be  the  ratio  of  hallucinations  of  the  dying  to  all  other  hallucinations  whatso- 
ever. But  although  there  is  no  theoretic  objection  to  this  proportion,  it  is  practically 
worthless,  because  we  have  no  statistical  data  by  which  to  compute  the  ratio  of  dying 
persons  to  all  other  real  things. 


the  earlier  part  of  their  lives  as  if,  in  spite  of  their  yielding  smaller 
'returns,'  they  must  really  have  included  as  large  a  number,  pro- 
portionally, of  similar  experiences.  Taking  the  past  3  months  as 
the  trustworthy  period,  and  considering  visual  cases  alone,  the 
authors  of  the  report  agree  that  the  face-returns  should  be  multiplied 
by  4,  in  order  to  represent  the  true  number  of  'apparitions'  seen  by 
their  informants.  But,  as  the  total  number  of  specifically  described 
apparitions  of  recognized  living  persons  returned  in  the  census  equals 
350,  and  350x4=1,400,  the  round  number  of  1,300  may  be  taken  as 
probably  near  the  figure  sought.1 

The  whole  number  of  death-coincidences  amongst  the  350  cases 
in  question  is  65,  or  62  when  3  cases  known  to  be  selected  by  their 
collectors  are  struck  out.  There  is  no  ground  for  supposing  that 
death-coincidences  tend  to  be  forgotten  by  their  percipients  :  On 
the  contrary  the  cases  appearing  in  the  census  date  with  dispropor- 
tionate frequency  from  by-gone  decades.  This,  of  course,  may  be 
due  to  the  fact  that  the  number  62  is  too  small  to  give  true  aver- 
ages when  distributed  over  the  36  years  covered.  But  to  be  on  the 
side  of  severity  the  committee  assume  that  the  proportion  reported 
from  the  last  decade  is  the  only  normal  one,  and  that  the  earlier 
stories  may  be  false,  and  (by  a  computation  based  on  figures  which  need 
not  here  be  reproduced)  they  knock  off  22  on  this  account  from  the 
total  of  death-apparitions  to  be  used,  and  make  it  40  instead  of  62,. 
just  the  opposite  treatment  to  that  which  they  applied  to  the  gross 
group  of  350  cases  of  which  these  death-cases  are  a  part.  From  these 
40  they  again  knock  off  8  as  an  ample  allowance  for  possibly  unre- 
ported  selection  on  the  collector's  part2,  and  again  2  for  good 
measure  and  as  a  sop  to  the  adversary,  so  that  finally  the  reduced 
number  of  'veridicals'  to  be  compared  with  the  augmented  number 
of  veridicals  and  non-veridicals  taken  together,  falls  to  the  figure  30 
which  is  used  in  the  conclusion  quoted  from  the  report  on  a  previous 

1The  period  of  three  months  is  found  trustworthy  when  'suspicious*  cases  are 
eliminated.  Suspicious  cases  are  those  where  the  appearance  may  not  have  been  an 
hallucination.  Figures  seen  in  a  bad  light,  or  through  an  open  door  in  passing,  or  at 
a  distance  in  the  open  air,  are  included  in  this  category.  Study  of  the  cases  reported 
to  have  occurred  within  three  months  of  the  accounts  given,  shows  that  these  '  sus- 
picious' ones  are  rarest  in  the  first  month,  and  are  therefore  presumably  peculiarly 
liable  to  oblivescence.  But  if  they  are  counted  in,  one  month  and  not  three  months 
becomes  the  trustworthy  period,  and  the  multiplier  of  the  crude  returns  must  then  be 
changed  from  4  to  (>j4.  The  influence  of  this  counting  of  suspicious  cases  is  con- 
siderably to  enlarge  the  total  of  hallucinations  to  be  supposed,  and  to  make  the  odds  in 
favor  of  the  coincidental  ones  being  due  to  something  else  than  chance  sink  from  440 
to  292  against  I. 

"The  data  for  computing  this  number  of  8  are  given  on  p.  243  of  the  report. 


The  reader  will  appreciate  the  candor  of  the  committee,  and  see 
how  earnestly  they  have  sought  to  eliminate  all  that  might  add 
specious  color,  as  distinguished  from  real  weight,  to  their  own 
side.  The  reader  whom  their  argument  does  not  impress  will  have, 
they  say,  to  take  one  of  three  courses.  He  may  deny  the  accuracy 
of  the  coincidental  cases,  to  which  the  reply  of  the  committee  con- 
sists in  printing  31  good  ones  as  a  sample.  He  may  still  insist 
that  the  collectors  have  loaded  their  returns  with  an  excessive  num- 
ber of  these  cases,  to  which  the  reply  is  too  minute  for  quotation 
here  (pp.  57  and  210  of  the  Report)  but  amounts  to  a  detailed  proof 
that  there  is  probably  no  overloading  of  the  returns  in  general  with 
yeses,  and  to  good  reason  shown  for  the  opinion  that  of  the  62  coin- 
cidental apparitions  taken  as  a  basis  for  the  enquiry,  at  most  10  can 
be  assumed  as  possibly  added  deliberately  by  the  collectors  to  their 
returns.  But  these  have  been  eliminated  in  the  reduced  number  of 
30,  finally  admitted  to  count  in  the  argument. — Thirdly  the  objector 
may  say  that  many  of  the  veridical  apparitions  are  causally  connected 
with  the  death,  but  not  by  telepathy  or  any  other  vis  occulla.  The 
illness  of  an  aged  person  is  the  cause  both  of  death  and  of  anxiety 
among  relatives.  Anxiety  is  proved  by  the  committee's  own  facts 
to  predispose  to  hallucination  1  ;  so  both  the  hallucination  in  such 
cases  and  the  death  can  be  common  effects  of  a  single  natural 
cause,  the  illness,  working  on  two  persons.  This,  it  will  be  remem- 
bered, is  Parish's  final  objection,  mentioned  above  ;  and  the  report 
treats  it  as  important.  At  the  same  time  the  authors  point  out  that 
there  are  but  23  cases  of  the  62  veridicals  in  which  the  illness  was 
known  beforehand,  and  only  in  some  of  these  was  there  anxiety. 
Moreover  the  close  coincidence  in  hour  of  the  death  with  the  appa- 
rition in  so  many  cases  seems  to  preclude  the  application  on  a  large 
scale  of  a  cause  like  anxiety  which  in  the  nature  of  things  must  have 
lasted  many  hours  or  days.2 

1  Anxiety  about  illness  was  probably  present  in  89  out  of  the  1622  cases  of  which 
there  are  first-hand  accounts,  and  grief  about  death  in  42  of  the  other  cases,  making 
nearly  1-12  of  the  whole  number.     As  we  don't  spend  1-12  of  our  lives  in  grief  and 
anxiety  of  these  sorts  it  must  be  that  during  these  emotions  hallucinations  come  with 
undue  frequency. 

2  Mere  expectation,  which  often  causes  illusions,  seems  to  play  no  important  part 
in  causing  hallucinations.     At  least  the  committee  find  only  14  cases  in  the  whole  col- 
lection where  the  phantasm  was  of  a  person  for  whose  arrival  the  percipient  was  look- 
ing out.     They  give  cases  where  '  suggestion '  may  be  reckoned  a  cause  (collective 
cases,  prediction  of  apparition  at  spiritist  seance,  etc.),  but  these  are  ambiguous,  and 
if  occult  agency  be  once  admitted  as  a  possibility,  are  perhaps  as  likely  to  be  caused  by 
that  as  by  '  suggestion '. 


It  will  thus  be  seen  that  the  committee  have  considered  on  their 
own  account  all  the  difficulties  urged  by  Herr  Parish  (with  the  excep- 
tion of  the  'pseudo-presentiment '  hypothesis  of  Royce)  and  that  they 
have  considered  them  in  a  more  objective  and  less  conjectural  way 
than  he,  without  their  case  being  weakened  to  any  certain  extent.1 
Plainly,  though,  if  the  30  cases  left  to  be  used  in  the  argument 
could  all  have  been  first-class  cases  (with  record  of  hallucination  be- 
fore event,  no  anxiety,  etc.)  the  argument  would  have  been  more 
convincing.  But  the  successive  weedings  of  the  crude  number  62 
could  not  be  performed  selectively  so  as  to  accomplish  just  this  re- 
sult, and  the  Census  is  therefore  still  too  small  for  knock-down  proof 
of  occult  cause.  If  telepathy  be  regarded  on  other  grounds  as  pos- 
sible, then  these  statistics  make  it  extremely  probable.  Otherwise 
they  will  not  convert  the  disbeliever,  who  will  pooh-pooh  the  statis- 
tical method  in  toto  when  it  takes  17,000  answers  to  get  30  good 
cases  to  cipher  with,  saying  that  the  field  is  too  vast  and  lean  for 
profitable  reaping,  that  figures  got  by  applying  so  many  hypothetical 
corrections  to  inaccurate  crude  data,  savor  too  much  of  guess-work 
to  inspire  confidence,  and  that  cooked  returns  are  cooked  returns, 
even  though,  like  these,  they  be  cooked  for  the  safe  side,  the  side 
adverse  to  the  conclusion  reached  by  their  means.2 

This  sort  of  reception  by  the  hard-hearted  is  inevitable,  and  it  is 
useless  to  ask  how  strictly  logical  it  may  be,  for  belief  follows 
psychological  and  not  logical  laws.  A  single  veridical  hallucination 
experienced  by  one's  self  or  by  some  friend  who  tells  one  all  the 
circumstances  has  more  influence  over  the  mind  than  the  largest 
calculated  numerical  probability  either  for  or  against.  I  can  testify 
to  this  from  direct  observation.  The  case  will,  therefore,  still  hang 

1  The  only  criticism  I  can  make  is  that  the  committee  have  possibly  been  too  indul- 
gent to  the  cases  where  the  percipient  was  in  bed.  His  conviction  that  he  was  awake 
is  to  be  taken  with  large  allowance  under  these  circumstances. 

a  The  figure  4,  for  example,  used  as  a  multiplier  of  the  crude  returns  in  correction 
of  forget  fulness,  is  reached  by  this  process :  out  of  87  visual  hallucinations  reported 
for  the  most  recent  year,  42  are  stated  to  have  occurred  within  the  most  recent  quarter, 
and  of  these  19  within  the  most  recent  month,  and  12  within  the  most  recent  half- 
month  ;  numbers  which  correspond  approximately  to  168,  228,  and  288  per  annum 
instead  of  87.  But  if  from  the  87  the  'suspicious'  cases  as  described  above  are  elimi- 
nated, and  the  most  recent  quarter  examined,  the  figures  are  much  more  even.  There 
are  12  suspicious  cases  in  the  recent  quarter;  so  that  then  30  instead  of  42  becomes 
the  number  to  be  counted  in  the  quarter.  Of  these  the  last  month  shows  12,  and  the 
last  half-month  5,  numbers  which  correspond  to  120,  144,  and  120  per  annum 
respectively.  This  looks  like  distribution  by  'natural  law,'  provided  the  evenness  of 
the  figures  be  not  accidental.  But  where  such  small  numbers  are  involved,  how  can 
one  be  sure  on  that  point? 


pending  before  public  opinion,  in  spite  of  the  laborious  industry  of 
Mrs.  Sidgwick  and  her  colleagues.  Of  course  if  the  results  of  the 
American  Census,  not  yet  published,  should  correspond,  that  will 
add  retroactive  weight.  But  the  most  that  can  be  said,  so  far,  in 
the  opinion  of  the  present  writer,  is  this,  that  the  Sidgwick  report 
affords  a  most  formidable  presumption  that  veridical  hallucinations  are 
due  to  something  more  than  chance.  Now  this  means  that  the 
telepathic  theory,  and  whatever  other  occult  theories  may  offer 
themselves,  have  fairly  conquered  the  right  to  a  patient  and  re- 
spectful hearing  before  the  scientific  bar;  and  no  one  with  any  real 
conception  of  what  the  word  '  Science '  means,  can  fail  to  realize 
the  profound  issues  which  such  a  fact  as  this  may  involve. 



A  Study  of  Ethical  Principles.      JAMES  SETH.     New  York:    Imported 
by  Charles  Scribner's  Sons.      1894.     Pp.  XVI,  460. 

The  subject  is  presented  in  three  parts; — (I)  an  analysis  of  the 
psychological  basis  of  ethical  principles,  and  criticism  of  the  cor- 
responding systems;  (II)  a  discussion  of  the  virtues,  under  the 
caption  of  The  Moral  Life;  and  (III)  the  metaphysical  implications 
of  ethics.  In  Part  I,  Prof.  Seth  criticises  Hedonism  as  unduly  em- 
phasizing the  sentient  nature  of  man  on  the  one  hand,  and  so-called 
Rigorism  on  the  other  as  laying  exclusive  stress  upon  man's  rational 
nature.  Each  is  based  upon  a  partial  psychology,  and  hence  incom- 
plete and  misleading.  He  would  therefore  distribute  the  emphasis, 
so  that  the  total  personality  embracing  both  sensibility  and  reason 
is  regarded  as  the  proper  basis  of  ethical  principles.  This  person- 
ality differs  from  the  lower,  or  animal  self-hood  of  mere  individuality 
in  the  power  of  transcending  the  entire  impulsive  and  sentient  life, 
subduing  it  unto  the  higher  rational  self.  This  power  constitutes 
the  will,  and  differentiates  man  from  the  animal.  Following  the 
epistemological  analogy,  as  the  Ego  constructs  the  various  data  of 
sensation  through  the  apperceptive  process,  forming  out  of  them  an 
object  of  knowledge,  so  in  the  construction  of  the  moral  end  out  of 
the  impulses,  there  is  a  similar  synthesis  of  the  crude  data  of  sensi- 
bility. Prof.  Seth's  ideal,  therefore,  is  self-realization,  and  his 
ethical  system  he  styles  Eudaimonism,  wishing  to  restore  its  original 
Aristotelian  significance  which  presented  pleasure  as  *  the  very 
bloom  and  crown  of  goodness.'  We  question  the  propriety  of  using 


a  word  so  strongly  associated  with  Hedonism,  to  characterize  a  sys- 
tem which  subordinates  the  pleasure  elements  to  a  superior  ideal. 
It  seems  more  appropriate  to  classify  Prof.  Seth  among  the  following 
of  Hegel  and  Green,  on  account  of  the  prominence  of  the  idea  of 
self-realization  in  his  scheme.  He,  however,  contends  that  they 
have  under-estimated  the  sharpness  of  the  existing  dualism,  in  affirm- 
ing the  essential  rationality  of  the  life  of  sensibility;  and  that  the 
full  force  of  the  antithesis  must  be  appreciated  in  order  to  realize 
that  complete  synthesis  where  inclination  and  duty  are  one. 

Prof.  Seth  criticises  Rigorism  as  presenting  an  abstract  formal 
law  of  conduct,  which,  however,  is  devoid  of  any  definite  content. 
But  does  he  himself  escape  a  like  imputation  ? — inasmuch,  as  since 
his  ethical  ideal  is  the  realization  of  self-hood,  or  personality,  the 
question  naturally  arises,  what  self  ?  What  kind  of  personality  ?  It 
is  the  self  constituted  by  the  common  rational  Ego  in  each  individ- 
ual. But  such  an  ideal  is  formal,  and  as  truly  lacks  a  definite  con- 
tent, so  that  we  are  confronted  by  the  old  difficulty  in  a  new  form. 
In  Part  III,  the  metaphysical  implications  of  ethics,  the  author  treats 
of  freedom,  God  and  immortality  as  necessitated  by  his  doctrine  of 
personality.  Since  self  is  more  than  the  sum  total  of  sensations,  it 
is  so  far  forth  superior  to  the  sensuous  stream  of  consciousness,  and 
therefore  free.  Also  self  seeks  a  larger  environment  than  Nature, 
that  is  God;  whence  immortality  is  naturally  deduced.  This  also 
furnishes  a  supplement  to  the  Kantian  theory  of  Autonomy,  inas- 
much "as  the  moral  law  is  the  echo  within  our  souls  of  the  voice  of 
the  Eternal,  whose  offspring  we  are." 

The  Kantian  Epistemology  and  Theism.     C.  WIST AR  HODGE.    Philadel- 
phia, MacCalla  &  Co.,  1894.     Pp.  47. 

The  author  criticises  Kant's  epistemological  position,  because  he 
does  not  follow  it  out  to  its  logical  conclusion.  Kant's  primary  pre- 
supposition that  all  things  exist  only  in  relation  to  self-consciousness 
necessitates  a  second  presupposition  deducible  from  it,  namely,  that 
the  real  is  the  rational.  This  is  overlooked;  and  the  spirit  of  Kant's 
teaching  as  well  as  the  logic  demands  its  recognition.  Dr.  Hodge 
contends  that  the  ideas  of  reason  must  be  more  than  mere  logical 
universals;  that  there  is  a  necessary  and  vital  connection  between 
knowledge  and  being  within  our  consciousness,  that  the  activity  of 
the  mind  necessitates  its  universality  and  reality;  that  there  is  a 
unity  of  organic  experience,  and  an  objectivity  of  the  categories. 
By  an  acute  analysis  of  Kant's  position,  he  seeks  to  prove  the  neces- 
sity of  these  supplementary  propositions,  especially  as  throwing  light 


upon  Kant's  theistic  criticism.  He  shows  that  there  is  need  to  em- 
phasize God's  immanence  as  well  as  His  transcendence.  The  two 
ideas  are  not  mutually  exclusive  but  are  realized  in  one  self-conscious 
and  personal  spirit;  and  Kant's  criticism  of  theistic  arguments  pro- 
ceeds upon  the  basis  of  a  transcendent  Being  merely,  the  mechani- 
cally conceived  God  of  Deism.  Finality  also  must  be  conceived  as 
an  objective  fact;  and  this  strengthens  the  reasonableness  of  the 
theistic  position.  Moreover  the  Kantian  ethics  in  relation  to  theism, 
overlooks  the  fact  that  the  self-revealing  spirit  can  be  like  us  because 
we  are  formed  in  His  image;  and  if  our  noumenal  self  carry  with  it 
a  moral  ideal,  so  must  God  also  be  conceived  as  possessed  of  moral 

The  ^Esthetic  Element  in  Morality  and  its  Place  in  a  Utilitarian  Theory  of 
Morals.  FRANK  CHAPMAN  SHARP.  New  York,  Macmillan  & 
Co.,  1893.  Pp.  131. 

The  problem  presented  in  this  work  is  to  determine  the  place  of 
beauty  of  character  in  the  moral  world.  Dr.  Sharp  approaches  this 
problem  from  two  different  sides.  First  as  to  its  origin,  he  contends 
that  every  attempt  to  make  beauty  of  character  the  primary  product 
of  the  moral  forces  is  doomed  to  failure,  and  he  insists  that  their 
original  goal  is  the  general  happiness  according  to  a  utilitarian 
criterion  of  right  and  wrong.  In  the  elaboration  of  this,  he  shows 
affinity  of  thought  with  Shaftsbury  and  Hutcheson.  From  a  second 
point  of  view,  he  discusses  the  question  of  values,  and  reaches  the 
conclusion  that  beauty  of  character  is  but  one  of  the  many  sources 
of  aesthetic  emotion,  and  that  its  attraction  for  us  is  due  to  the 
pleasure  it  affords,  the  worth  of  which  is  to  be  measured  by  the  same 
scale  which  we  apply  to  the  other  emotions.  In  all  this,  the  author 
seems  to  us  to  be  himself  alive  to  his  omission  of  the  idea  of  obliga- 
tion as  an  essential  factor.  For  he  supplements  his  discussion  by  an 
analysis  of  the  idea  of  oughtness.  This  is  for  him  in  the  main,  the 
pressure  of  the  accumulated  judgments  of  society  upon  the  individual 
consciousness.  This  overlooks  the  principle  of  autonomy;  and  man's 
will  then  feels  obligation  only  as  imposed  from  without.  This  is 
especially  unsatisfactory  where  Dr.  Sharp  speaks  of  the  *  theological 
ought.'  He  regards  God  in  the  same  manner  as  society,  or  our 
fellow  men  in  general,  one  of  the  powers  without,  which  expect  from 
us  certain  lines  of  conduct.  Such  a  view  makes  obligation  unreal, 
by  presenting  it  as  a  force  both  arbitrary  and  artificial. 





Ueber  die  Histogenese  der  Korner  der  Kleinhirnrinde.  ERNST  LUGARO. 
Anatomische  Anzeiger,  No.  23,  1894. 

Recent  studies  in  the  development  of  the  nervous  system  have 
brought  to  light  some  interesting  and  curious  migrations  of  nerve 
cells.  His  showed  that  the  neuroblasts  arising  from  germinal  cells 
about  the  central  canal  must  migrate  to  the  different  parts  of  gray 
matter  in  which  they  underwent  their  further  development.  The 
migration  of  a  spherical  cell  probably  possessing  amoeboid  powers  is 
familiar  enough  from  the  manner  in  which  the  leucocytes  travel 
through  the  fixed  tissues.  But  in  some  way  nerve  elements,  if  the 
interpretations  given  are  correct,  must  traverse  the  tissues  even 
after  their  prolongations  have  been  formed. 

The  paper  in  question  is  a  research  on  the  granules  or  small  cells 
of  the  cerebellum.  On  the  surface  of  the  developing  cerebellum  is 
a  layer  of  epithelium  like  cells  with  one  process  passing  directly 
towards  the  surface  and  the  other  more  or  less  in  the  opposite  direc- 
tion. These  elements  shade  off  by  intermediate  forms  into  dineuric 
cells,  the  two  neurons  of  which  run  parallel  with  the  cortical  surface. 
Among  those  lying  somewhat  deeper,  appear  dineuric  elements  from 
which  a  dendritic  process  has  begun  to  grow  away  from  the  surface. 
Just  as  in  the  case  of  the  dineuric  cells  of  the  spinal  ganglia,  the 
neurons  come  to  lie  more  and  more  at  one  side  of  the  cell  body  ; 
finally  a  stem  is  formed  and  this  stem  lengthens,  the  cell  bodies 
sinking  deeper  into  the  granular  layer.  The  dendritic  processes 
appear  first  as  a  single  conical  outgrowth,  then  become  branched, 
multiple  and  shorter,  and  finally  decrease  in  number  with  the  form- 
ation of  the  characteristic  brushes  at  their  termini  and  become  identi- 
cal with  the  cells  of  the  fully  developed  granular  layer,  the  very  long 
stem  of  the  neuron  passing  into  the  molecular  layer  and  terminating 
in  the  T  process  now  so  well  known  from  the  studies  of  Cajal,  Kol- 
liker  and  others. 

If  this  is  a  true  history  of  the  development  of  these  granules,  the 
author  is  justified  in  his  conclusions:  (i)  The  position  of  the  nerve 
cells  during  embryonic  life  is  not  necessarily  that  which  it  will  finally 
hold.  (2)  The  neuron  grows  not  only  at  its  ends  but  also  through- 
out its  entire  length,  thus  permitting  the  cell  body  to  wander.  (3) 
While  the  neuron  undergoes  a  gradual  and  progressive  development, 
the  dendritic  processes  may  at  some  intervening  time  be  better  de- 
veloped than  they  are  at  the  end  of  growth. 

The  disappearance  of  the  primitive  and  intermediate  forms  as  the 


final  form  becomes  more  abundant,  is  one  of  the  arguments  in  favor 
of  the  author's  view;  but  there  is  no  escaping  the  conclusion  that 
not  only  the  cell-body  with  its  dendrons  must  then  move  through 
the  surrounding  substance,  but  the  neuron  with  its  termination  also 
moves.  While  therefore  the  argument  in  favor  of  these  changes 
appears  complete,  it  requires  us  to  admit  that  the  nerve  cell  with  all 
its  prolongations  may,  during,  growth,  sink  through  the  substance  of 
the  cerebellum,  like  a  bullet  through  a  plate  of  wax. 

Although  these  experiments  do  not  stand  alone,  nevertheless  so 
difficult  is  it  to  accept  this  explanation  that  careful  control  observa- 
tions on  displacements  due  to  the  enlargement  of  other  nerve  struc- 
tures should  be  made  before  entertaining  too  seriously  the  conclu- 
sions to  which  these  results  apparently  point. 

Beitrag  zur  Kentniss  der  Pathologischen  Anatomic  der  Paralysis  agitans 
und  deren  Eeziehungen  zu  gewissen  Nervenkrankheiten  des  Greisen- 
alters.  EMIL  REDLICH.  Jahrbiicher  f.  Psychiatric,  Bd.  XII. 
Heft  3. 

In  connection  with  the  changes  occurring  in  the  nerve  cells  in 
old  age,  the  observations  on  the  nervous  system  in  paralysis  agitans 
are  of  importance.  The  paper  by  Ketscher,  1892,  on  this  subject, 
indicated  that  the  appearances  found  in  the  nervous  system  of  the 
aged  suffering  from  paralysis  agitans  were  in  kind  similar  to  those 
found  in  persons  who,  though  aged,  did  not  exhibit  this  disease. 
The  difference  between  the  appearances  in  the  two  sets  of  cases 
were  in  his  opinion  mainly  one  of  degree. 

In  view  of  Ketscher's  publication,  Redlich  gives  his  results  in  a 
condensed  form,  as  they  are  mainly  confirmatory,  though  in  part  di- 
vergent. In  paralysis  agitans  the  spinal  cord  is  especially  affected, 
and  in  it  the  lumbar  and  cervical  enlargements  are  the  centres  of 
greatest  change.  Here  the  most  marked  alterations  are  in  the  lat- 
eral and  dorsal  columns  where  there  is  a  sclerosis  with  atrophy  of 
the  nerve  fibres,  vascular  changes  with  the  formation  of  amyloid 
bodies,  while  the  cells  in  the  ventral  horns  and  the  columns  of 
Clarke  are  often  so  pigmented  as  to  obscure  the  nucleus.  In  other 
portions  of  the  central  and  peripheral  system  similar  changes  occur, 
though  they  are  less  intense. 

Redlich  urges  a  sharper  distinction  between  the  condition  of  the 
central  nervous  system  in  uncomplicated  old  age  and  those  found  in 
paralysis  agitans.  He  would  separate  the  pathological  anatomy  in 
these  latter  cases  from  those  of  simple  senility  by  the  greater  changes 
in  the  blood  vessels  and  formation  of  sclerotic  areas  due  to  the  in- 


crease  in  the  supporting  tissues,  changes  which  do  not  necessarily 
accompany  the  involutionary  process  in  the  central  system. 

Histological  changes  induced  in  sympathetic,  motor,  and  sensory  nerve-cells 
by  functional  activity.  (Preliminary  note).  GUSTAV  MANN.  Jour, 
of  Anat.  and  Physiol.,  N.  S.,  Vol.  IX.,  Part  I.,  October,  1894. 

Previous  to  this  publication,  there  have  been  current  two  state- 
ments concerning  the  effect  of  electrical  stimuli  on  the  size  of  nerve- 
cells  and  their  nuclei.  Hodge,  working  with  weak  faradic  currents, 
applied  intermittently,  but  for  a  long  time,  to  the  sensory  spinal 
nerves  of  the  frog  and  cat,  found  the  cells  of  the  spinal  ganglia  thus 
fatigued,  to  be  shrunken.  Vas,  with  stronger  stimuli  applied  for 
fifteen  minutes  to  the  trunk  of  the  cervical  sympathetic  of  the  rab- 
bit, found  the  bodies  and  the  nuclei  of  the  sympathetic  cells  thereby 

To  the  examination  of  this  discrepancy  the  author  has  directed 
his  observations.  He  repeated  Vas'  experiments  under  his  condi- 
tions, and  obtained  similar  results;  a  swelling  of  the  cell-body,  its 
nucleus,  and  the  structures  within  the  nucleus.  On  examining  parts 
of  the  nervous  system  of  a  dog  after  prolonged  muscular  exercise, 
the  motor  cells  in  the  lumbar  region  of  the  cord  were  found  to  ex- 
hibit the  characteristic  shrinkage  described  by  Hodge,  while  cells 
from  the  motor  region  of  the  cortex  showed  swollen  bodies  and 

When  the  two  retinae  of  a  dog  were  compared,  one  retina  having 
been  at  rest  while  the  other  had  been  stimulated,  both  results  were 
obtained  within  the  limits  of  the  same  retina;  the  nuclei  of  the  rods 
showing  decided  shrinkage  while  those  of  the  middle  ganglion-cell 
layer  were  swollen. 

These  differences  lead  the  author  to  suggest  that  activity  in  nerve 
cells  is  accompanied  by  an  increase  in  volume,  whereas  fatigue  is  as- 
sociated with  the  reverse  change.  These  terms  are  not  happily 
chosen,  since  both  apply  equally  well  to  the  entire  series  of  changes 
taking  place  in  the  cell.  With  the  commencement  of  activity,  fa- 
tigue commences  and  they  continue  together  as  different  aspects  of 
a  single  process.  It  would  therefore  be  better  to  distinguish  be- 
tween the  earlier  and  later  phases  of  one  or  the  other.  In  the  early 
stages  of  fatigue,  associated  with  enlargement,  M.  finds  that  the 
cell,  and  especially  the  nucleus,  become  chromophobic,  and  it  is  in- 
teresting to  note  that  in  his  study  of  the  mature  cells,  in  the  cervical 
enlargemenc  of  the  mammalian  cord,  Kaiser  found  the  chromophobic 
cells  to  have  the  greater  mean  diameter. 


Like  all  such  matters  the  histological  changes  accompanying  the 
functional  activity  of  nerve  cells,  becomes  more  complicated,  the 
further  it  is  examined,  and  it  is  to  be  hoped,  that  it  will  in  this 
instance  be  possible  to  unravel  these  apparently  opposite  reactions 
without  any  obfuscation  of  the  main  point,  due  to  the  neglect  of  the 
mechanical  conditions  of  experiment,  or  of  the  full  record  concern- 
ing the  species,  age,  sex  and  physiological  condition  of  the  animals 

Quelques  observations  expe'rimentales  sur  r  influence  de  Vinsomnie  absolute. 
MARIE  DE  MANACEINE.  (Address  made  before  the  International 
Medical  Congress  held  at  Rome,  1894).  Archives  italiennes  de 
Biologic,  1894.  T.  XXI. 

Dogs  from  2  to  4  months  of  age  were  prevented  from  sleeping 
and  the  physiological  and  anatomical  effects  of  this  treatment,  re- 
corded. It  appears  that,  for  these  animals  at  least,  loss  of  sleep  is 
much  more  detrimental  than  starvation.  Dogs  after  starving  more 
than  twenty  days  and  having  lost  more  than  50  per  cent,  of  their  in- 
itial weight,  may  still  recuperate  under  favorable  conditions;  but 
loss  of  sleep  for  four  or  five  days  is  fatal.  The  temperature  of  the 
sleepless  animal  finally  falls  as  much  as  8°  below  the  normal,  the 
reflexes  disappear,  the  red  blood  corpuscles  first  diminish  in  number, 
to  undergo  a  final  increase  during  the  last  two  days,  when  the  animal 
refuses  food. 

Fatty  degeneration  of  the  tissues  was  the  chief  histological 
change  noted  at  the  post-mortem  examination;  the  blood  vessels 
often  appeared  compressed,  were  surrounded  by  leucocytes  and 
there  were  capillary  hemorrhages  on  the  surface  of  the  cerebral 
hemispheres,  with  more  extensive  ones  along  the  optic  pathway; 
while  the  spinal  cord  appeared  abnormally  dry  and  anaemic. 

When  it  is  remembered  that  the  central  system  withstands  the 
effects  of  starvation  in  a  most  remarkable  manner,  maintaining 
almost  its  full  weight  up  to  the  death  of  the  animal,  the  great  dis- 
turbance following  a  few  days'  loss  of  sleep  is  very  impressive. 

Zur  Kenntniss  der  Veranderungen  des  Riickenmarkes  beim  Menschen  nach 
Extremitdtenamputationen.  A.  GRIGORIEW.  Zeitschr.  f.  Heilk. 
1894.  Bd.  XV. 

The  physiological  conditions  on  which  a  mature  nerve  cell  de- 
pends for  its  healthy  maintenance  are  complicated.  Most  important 
are  the  supply  of  nutritive  substance ;  the  regular  alternation  of  ac- 



tivity  with  repose  and  anatomical  completeness;  but  the  essential 
feature  in  each  one  of  these  conditions  is  far  from  clear. 

G.  has  examined  the  spinal  cord  in  the  five  cases  of  amputation, 
two  at  the  upper  arm,  two  at  the  thigh,  one  below  the  knee.  The 
last  lesion  was  but  a  year  old  when  examined,  and  the  cord  showed 
no  changes.  In  the  other  four  cases  there  was  an  atrophy  on  the 
corresponding  side  of  the  cord,  noticeable  earliest  in  the  dorsal  roots 
and  dorsal  columns,  later  in  the  cells  of  the  ventral  horns.  The 
degree  of  the  atrophy  increased  with  the  age  of  the  lesion  and  was 
accompanied  by  some  degeneration.  These  results  are  mainly  con- 
firmatory of  previous  observations.  On  attempting  to  analyze  them 
it  will  be  readily  seen  how  complex  they  are. 

In  these  cases  both  the  sensory  and  motor  elements  have  lost 
portions  of  their  neurons  without  an  opportunity  to  regenerate  them. 
The  sensory  elements  have  been  deprived  of  the  major  number  of 
stimuli  coming  to  them  under  normal  conditions,  and  have  thus  failed 
to  send  the  usual  impulses  on  to  the  cord.  The  motor  elements 
have  been  crippled  by  the  loss  of  their  peripheral  outgrowths  and 
allowed  to  become  torpid  by  disuse.  There  are,  to  be  sure,  other 
impulses  coming  to  these  cells,  in  addition  to  those  arriving  by  their 
associated  dorsal  roots,  and  they  must,  for  some  time  at  least,  retain 
the  power  to  discharge  along  their  efferent  prolongations.  To  ex- 
plain this  atrophy  in  the  cord  after  amputation,  it  will  therefore  be 
necessary  to  learn  what  atrophic  changes  occur,  when  either  root,  a 
dorsal  or  ventral,  alone  is  cut  and  for  what  period  after  operation 
the  cell  bodies  continue  to  send  out  impulses. 

Note  on  the  Degenerations  following  Double  Transverse,  Longitudinal,  and 
Anterior  Cornual  Lesions  of  the  Spinal  Cord.  ALBERT  S.  GRUN- 
BAUM.  Journ.  of  Physiology,  Vol.  XVI. 

On  isolating  by  double  transverse  section  about  three  spinal  seg- 
ments in  the  lower  thoracic  region  of  the  cord  of  a  monkey,  it  was 
found  that  there  followed  a  very  complete  degeneration  of  the  dorsal 
columns,  and  in  the  remaining  columns  a  sharply  defined  peripheral 
band  marking  out  the  distribution  of  the  long  tracts  at  the  circum- 
ference. The  degeneration  increased  with  time,  being  greater  at 
the  end  of  the  six  months  than  at  the  end  of  one.  After  this  lesion 
the  included  anterior  root  fibres  do  not  show  degeneration,  indicat- 
ing that  they  rise  within  the  limits  of  the  portion  isolated,  but  when 
the  ventral  cornu  of  one  side  has  been  destroyed,  some  degenerated 
fibres  are  to  be  found  in  the  opposite  ventral  root  (observations  on 
cats).  A  longitudinal  mesal  section  of  the  cord  was  made  (also  on 


cats)  with  the  result  of  an  ascending  degeneration  just  external  to 
the  dorsal  roots,  and  another  at  the  ventral  border  of  the  cerebeliar 
tract.  This  latter  is  explained  as  due  to  the  section  of  fibres  cross- 
ing in  the  anterior  commissure,  while  the  former  is  attributed  to  in- 
jury of  the  columns  of  Clarke. 

Report  of  the  Versammlung  deutscher  Naturforscher  und  Aerzte  in 
Wien  vom  24-30  September,  1894;  Section  fur  Psychiatric  nnd 
Neurologie.  Neurologisches  Centralblatt,  No.  20.  1894. 

From  the  reports  of  a  number  of  papers  of  neurological  interest, 
given  at  the  Vienna  meeting  of  the  German  Society  of  Naturalists 
and  Physicians,  the  following  abstracts  are  taken : 

Ueber  die  topographischen  BezieJmngen  zwischcn  Retina,  Optictis,  und 
gekreutzen  Tractus  beim  Kaninschen.  A.  PICK. 

From  the  destruction  of  limited  areas  in  the  retina,  and  the  study 
of  the  subsequent  degeneration,  it  appears  that  the  affected  fibres 
occupy  in  the  cross  section  of  the  opticus  or  tractus  a  position  cor- 
responding to  that  of  the  injury  in  the  retina.  No  allusion  is  made 
to  facts  bearing  on  the  bundle  of  uncrossed  optic  fibres,  though  there 
is  reason  to  think  that  in  the  rabbit  this  is  connected  with  the  lateral 
portions  of  the  retina. 

Die  Sinnesorgane  und  die  Ganglien  bei  Anencephalie  und  Amyelie.  O.  v. 

In  a  foetus  of  eight  months  in  which  the  medullary  tube  was  lack- 
ing, the  author  had  previously  shown  the  presence  and  moderate 
development  of  the  sensory  system.  In  this  new  case,  also  a  foetus 
of  eight  months,  anencephalic  and  amyelic,  the  nervous  system  con- 
sisted of  the  retina  and  of  spinal  and  sympathetic  ganglia,  with  the 
nerves  arising  from  them.  A  portion  of  these  nerves  could  be  fol- 
lowed into  the  muscles.  The  spinal  ganglia  were  not  completely 
separated  from  one  another,  but  the  dorsal  roots  had  been  formed 
and,  except  in  the  cervical  region,  these  roots  ran  cephalad.  The 
nerve  cells  were  complete;  some  of  the  fibres  medullated,  but 
in  the  so-called  retina  there  were  no  nerve  cells,  neither  were 
there  any  fibres  in  the  optic  stalk.  The  independent  development 
of  the  sensory  system,  the  sympathetic  being  associated  with  it,  the 
distribution  of  sensory  nerves  to  the  muscles,  and  the  normal  devel- 
opment of  the  musculatur,  are  the  striking  features  of  this  case.  The 
last  fact  is  very  interesting,  for  in  normal  persons  the  severance  of 
the  ventral  roots  from  the  muscles  leads  to  degenerative  changes  in 


the  latter,  and  the  fact  that  the  muscles  can  develop  without  such  a 
nerve  supply  is  most  remarkable. 

Ueber  die  feinere  Anatomic  und  die  physiologische  Bcdeutung  des  sympa- 
thischen  Nervensystem.     v.  KOLLIKER. 

The  medullation  of  sympathetic  fibres  is  very  irregular,  and  they 
exhibit  every  combination  which  can  occur.  K.  considers  the  func- 
tions of  the  sympathetic  system  partly  independent — an  expression 
not  explained — and  partly  dependent  on  the  central  system.  The  cells 
he  describes  as  mononeuric.  Those  cells  with  a  spiral  and  straight 
fibre  give  origin  only  to  the  latter,  while  the  former  originates  else- 
where and  merely  terminates  on  the  body  of  the  cell.  In  the  mammals 
these  sympathetic  cells  may  be  multipolar.  In  this  latter  case,  the 
dendrons  are  pathways  for  afferent,  and  the  neuron,  for  the  efferent 

In  this  view  the  cells  are  mainly  efferent  or  motor,  while  the 
afferent  impulses,  passing  first  to  the  medullary  centres,  are  medi- 
ated by  a  few  fibres  from  the  dorsal  spinal  roots.  It  is  not  easy  to 
see  how  independence  can  in  any  sense  be  granted  to  this  system, 
unless  the  anatomical  arrangements  for  both  afferent  and  efferent 
impulses  are  present  in  it.  It  is  suggestive  to  recall,  moreover,  that 
the  most  probable  point  of  origin  for  the  sympathetic  cells  is  the 
same  as  that  which  gives  rise  to  the  cells  of  the  spinal  ganglia, 
which  are  the  typical  sensory  elements.  H.  H.  D. 



(/)    Ueber  die  nach  kurzdauernder  Reizung  des   Sehorgans  auftretenden 

Nachbilder.     CARL  HESS.     Pfliiger's  Archiv.     XLIV,  190.  1891. 
(2)   Ueber  Nachbilder.     SNELLEN.     XXIII.  Vers.  ophth.  Gesellsch.  zu 

Heidelberg,    1893. 
(j)  Primare,  secunddre   und  tertidre   Netzhautbilder   nach    momentanen 

Lichteindriicken.    H.  P.  BOSCHA.    Arch.  f.  Ophth.  XL,  (i),  22-42, 


(4)  Studien  uber  Nachbilder.     CARL  HESS.      Arch  f.  Ophth.  XL,  (2), 

259-279,  1894. 

(5)  On  the  Recurrent  Images  following   Visual  Impressions.       SHELFORD 
BIDWELL,  Proc.  Roy.  Soc.  LVI.,  June  7,  1894. 

Of  these  several  papers  on  after-images,  the  last  is  the  most  im- 
portant. The  experiments  of  Mr.  Bidwell  (like  those  of  Hess  in  his 


second  communication)  concern  the  phenomena  which  arise  when 
bright  colorless  or  colored  objects  are  made  to  move  rather  rapidly  be- 
fore the  eye  in  an  otherwise  dark  room.  Hess  used  small  glow  lamps 
of  .5  cm  diameter  at  a  distance  of  about  half  a  meter  from  the  eye, 
covered  with  glass  of  different  colors.  Bidwell  found  colored  glasses 
quite  inadequate  to  his  purpose,  and  hence  made  use  of  homogene- 
ous light,  obtained  by  a  high  pressure  oxyhydrogen  light,  a  bisul- 
phide of  carbon  prism,  a  screen  with  a  slit  in  it,  and  a  mirror  which 
rotated  about  a  non-perpendicular  axis  and  so  caused  the  portions  of 
the  spectrum  reflected  from  it  to  describe  a  circle  upon  a  second 
screen.  With  various  modifications  of  this  apparatus  he  obtained  a 
complicated  series  of  sensations  which  will  be  best  borne  in  mind  if 
we  reproduce  his  diagram  : 









!    '      "• 



if";  _ 

\  i  a 



C            L 

I/        N 

R                   P 

Immediately  upon  the  impact  of  the  light  there  is  experienced  a 
sensation  of  luminosity,  the  intensity  of  which  increases  for  about 
one-sixtieth  of  a  second.  Then  follows  suddenly  a  sensation  of 
darkness,  lasting  also  for  about  one-sixtieth  of  a  second  ;  this  is  the 
now  well-known  Charpentier  oscillation.  Several  slight  waves  fol- 
low this,  and  then  there  is  a  period  of  steady  luminosity,  which, 
however,  is  much  less  intense  than  the  first  instantaneous  maximum. 
Upon  shutting  off  the  external  light,  a  sensation  of  diminishing 
brightness  continues  fora  brief  interval,  and  is  followed  by  a  "sud- 
den and  clearly-defined  sensation  of  what  may  be  called  abnormal 
darkness — darker  than  common  darkness — which  lasts  for  about 
one-sixtieth  of  a  second,  "  and  is  followed  by  another  interval  of 
ordinary  darkness  (N).  Finally  there  occurs  another  transient  im- 
pression of  luminosity,  generally  violet-colored  (R).  This  is  the  Re- 
current Image,  which  is  the  special  subject  of  this  paper.  The  re- 
current image  is  followed  by  what  the  author  speaks  of  sometimes 
as  a  period  of  steady  darkness — "  after  which  the  uniformity  of  the 
darkness  remains  undisturbed  "  (p.  143) — but  at  other  times  he  re- 

85  VISION. 

fer&  to  it  as  a  phosphorescent  trail,  the  color  of  which  cannot  be 
determined,  but  which  is  with  some  observers  "so  intense  that  the 
recurrent  image  cannot  be  distinguished  from  it  at  all."  This  whole 
period  (R  and  P)  is  what  observers  in  general  put  under  the  head  of 
the  positive  after-image;  it  has  almost  always  been  supposed  to  be 
continuous  with  the  original  sensation,  and  its  color  (which  accord- 
ing to  all  observers  is  most  persistently  a  reddish  violet)  is  what 
Helmholtz  describes  as  farbiges  Abklingen  des  positiven  Nachbildes,  a 
term  which  will  no  longer  be  appropriate.  The  fact  that  the  positive 
after-image  is  preceded  by  a  negative  phase  (N)  has  recently  been 
made  plain  by  Hess  (i),  who  points  out  that  it  has  been  wholly  over- 
looked by  Helmholtz,  Aubert  and  Fick;  it  had,  however,  been  dis- 
tinctly described  by  Purkinje,  whose  works  are  still  a  store-house 
of  facts  which  await  a  sufficiently  careful  observer  to  be  rediscov- 
ered. Bidwell,  strangely  enough,  wrote  in  ignorance  of  this  paper 
of  Hess,  and  Hess  was  also  unaware  that  the  interval  of  darkness 
which  interrupts  the  positive  image  had  already  been  studied  by 
Prof.  C.  A.  Young  and  by  Mr.  A.  S.  Davis  (Phil.  Mag.,  Vols.  43  and 
44,  1872).  The  fact  that  when  the  after-image  of  the  whole  spec- 
trum is  formed,  its  brightest  part  is  not  in  the  yellow  but  in  the 
green  (Hess  and  Bidwell)  will  doubtless  be  found  to  connect  itself 
with  the  fact  that  the  green  is  the  brightest  part  of  the  spectrum 
when  seen  in  a  faint  light. 

All  recent  work  in  vision  shows  that  it  becomes  more  and  more 
necessary  to  distinguish  between  the  specific  sensation  (color)  and  the 
absolute  sensation  (brightness)  produced  by  objective  light,  and  in 
particular  the  terms  positive  and  negative  as  applied  to  after-images 
are  very  misleading  unless  farther  particularized,  for  an  image  may 
be  positive  in  one  respect  at  the  same  time  that  it  is  negative  in  the 
other.  It  is,  for  instance,  on  account  of  this  ambiguity,  an  almost 
hopeless  task  to  endeavor  to  compare  the  phases  of  the  after-image 
as  described  in  the  five  papers  whose  titles  are  given  above.  In 
order  to  secure  comprehension  and  at  the  same  time  to  avoid  the 
use  of  such  complicated  phrases  as  "an  after-image  which  is  com- 
plementary to  the  original  one  in  color  but  of  corresponding  bright- 
ness," I  would  propose,  in  the  absence  of  a  less  awkward  terminol- 
ogy, the  following;  co-color,  as  an  abbreviation  for  complementary 
color;  self -color  for  a  revival  of  the  same  color,  and  the  same  pre- 
fixes for  the  phases  of  brightness.  Thus  we  should  have: 
co-color  —  --  co-brightness  .... 

self-color ^1 -^-self-brightness.  .  . 


for  the  four  possible  descriptions  of  after-image,  and  for  the  above 
long  phrase  we  should  substitute  the  co-color  self-brightness  image. 

Boscha  (3),  following  out  the  preliminary  work  of  Snellen  and  in 
his  laboratory,  used  an  electric  spark  in  a  dark  room  to  illuminate 
colored  papers.  His  secondary  stage  is  one  of  co-color  and  self- 
brightness,  and  it  is  followed,  after  a  pause,  by  an  image  which  is 
always  of  a  peculiar  reddish  color  difficult  to  define.  He  makes  a 
number  of  criticisms  upon  the  work  of  Hess  in  (i),  which  are  shown 
in  (4)  to  be  based  upon  misconceptions.  The  dark  interval  preced- 
ing his  secondary  stage  he  seems  to  have  quite  overlooked.  The 
conclusion  of  the  whole  matter  is  that  there  are  numerous  oscilla- 
tions in  the  chemical  process  which  is  set  up  in  the  retina  by  light, 
whose  farther  more  detailed  study  may  be  expected,  perhaps,  to 
throw  additional  light  upon  rival  theories. 


(1)  Physiologische  Analyse  eines  ungewohnlichen  Falles  partieller  Farben- 
blindheit.    II.    M.  v.  VINTSCHGAU.    Pfliiger's  Archiv,  LVII.  191- 

(2)  Ueber  einen  Fall  von  Gelb-Blaublindheit.     Ew.  HERING.    Pfl.  Arch. 
LVII.  308-332. 

Prof.  Langley  has  lately  been  so  fortunate  as  to  be  able  to  per- 
fect his  methods  for  the  determination  of  the  cold  lines  in  the  infra- 
red part  of  the  spectrum  to  such  an  extent  that  work  which  it 
formerly  took  him  a  year  to  finish  he  can  now  do  in  a  fraction  of  a 
day,  and  he  has  already  laid  down  2,000  lines  with  far  greater 
accuracy  than  he  could  otherwise  have  obtained  them  with  at  the 
•end  of  a  hundred  years.  A  somewhat  similar  change  has  been 
effected  in  our  power  to  determine  the  exact  nature  of  a  given  case 
of  color  blindness  by  Prof.  Konig's  latest  form  of  the  Helmholtz 
color-mixing  apparatus,  or  spectro-photometer  for  colors  (an  im- 
provement even  over  the  instrument  exhibited  at  the  Chicago  Fair), 
when  manipulated  with  all  the  precautions  and  the  corrections  which 
.are  made  use  of  in  Konig's  laboratory.  If  v.  Vintschgau  had  been 
willing  to  make  use  of  this  method,  he  might  have  described  his  case 
of  dichromasie  not  in  one  hundred  and  sixteen  pages,  but  in  three, 
one  of  which  would  have  contained  two  diagrams,  one  giving  the 
patient's  brightness  curve  through  the  spectrum,  and  the  other  giv- 
ing the  curves  for  his  two  color  sensations,  as  deduced  by  the  rela- 
tive amount  of  the  two  end-sensations  necessary  to  match  in  tone 
and  brightness  all  the  intermediate  parts  of  the  spectrum.  This 


simple  information  we  seek  in  vain  in  v.  Vintschgau's  pages,  but  we 
have  instead  endless  series  of  experiments  with  colored  paper,  glass, 
and  wools,  which  all  belong  to  a  previous  period  of  color-blindness 
investigation,  and  which  simply  repeat  the  result  obtained  by  his- 
spectrophotometer, — namely,  that  the  patient  lacks  the  sensations 
blue  and  yellow,  as  in  a  typical  case  of  blue-blindness,  and  that  he 
has  a  slightly  diminished  sensibility  for  the  colors  that  remain  to 
him,  for  the  short-wave  end  of  the  spectrum  rather  more  than  for 
the  long-wave  end.  This  is  hardly  enough  to  make  the  case  '  un- 
usual,' and  Hering  refers  to  it  simply  as  a  case  ;  the  adjective  in 
v.  Vintschgau's  title  is,  in  fact,  simply  a  survival  from  his  first  com- 
munication, when  he  had  convinced  himself,  also  by  an  immense 
number  of  experiments,  that  his  patient  could  see  yellow,  which 
would  indeed  have  been  an  anomaly.  This  mistake  he  was  led  into 
by  paying  attention  to  the  names  which  his  patient  used  for  his  sen- 
sations. How  wholly  unjustifiable  this  is  was  pointed  out  by  Dr. 
William  Pole,  himself  partially  color-blind,  in  an  article  of  most  re- 
markable logical  acumen,  in  which  the  writer  wholly  anticipated  the 
facts  in  regard  to  color-blindness  which  have  only  with  the  last  few 
years  gained  acceptance  (Trans.  Roy.  Soc.,  1858).  The  violet  end  of 
the  spectrum  gives  this  individual  no  color-sensation  when  looked  at 
directly  (2),  but  it  has  been  possible  to  prove  indirectly,  and  in  three 
different  ways,  that  he  has  here  a  sensation  of  red ;  (a)  a  little  of 
this  light  when  added  to  a  red  which  is  too  faint  to  be  distinguished 
causes  a  plain  sensation  of  red;  (b)  it  forms  a  colorless  mixture  with 
green,  and  (c)  it  gives  a  distinct  green  as  a  contrast-color.  This 
fact  that  a  color  too  faint  to  be  perceived  may  yet  cause  its  proper 
contrast  effect  to  be  very  distinct  is  already  known,  and  is  beauti- 
fully exhibited  in  the  experiments  with  a  projection  lantern  of  Rol- 
let  (Pfl.  Arch.  XL.  25,  1892,)  the  most  brilliant  yet  made  in  the 
subject  of  contrast. 

The  necessity  of  paying  no  attention  to  what  the  patient  says 
that  he  sees,  but  only  to  his  color  equations,  is  now  pretty  well 
recognized,  and  Hering  himself  (but  not  v.  Vintschgau,  p.  205)  dis- 
tinctly insists  upon  it.  Nevertheless,  in  calling  the  two  color-sensa- 
tions of  the  person  here  investigated  red  and  green,  Hering  (and  v. 
Vintschgau  as  well)  overlooks  this  precaution,  and  at  the  same  time 
assumes  the  correctness  of  his  own  theory,  which  the  case  is  sup- 
posed to  support.  All  that  we  know  is  that  this  patient  has  some 
distinguishable  color-sensation  along  the  spectrum  as  far  as  A  596, 
and  again  another  sensation  from  A.  574  to  A  481.  If  Hering1  s  theory 
is  correct,  this  latter  sensation  is  green;  upon  the  Helmholtz  theory,  as 


held  by  its  present  defenders  (and  upon  any  three-color  theory),  it 
is  blue-green;  the  whole  bearing  of  the  case  upon  existing  theories 
depends  upon  whether  this  color  (the  complement  to  the  fundamen- 
tal red  of  both  theories)  is  properly  named  green  or  blue-green;  in 
other  words,  it  has  no  bearing  at  all  upon  them.  Konig  has  very 
recently  had  several  most  interesting  cases  of  monocular  blue-blind- 
ness circumscribed  within  a  small  area  surrounding  the  fovea,  in 
which  the  sensation  given  by  the  cold  end  of  the  spectrum  can  be 
readily  compared  with  normal  sensations,  and  is  found  to  be  blue- 
green.  This  fact  is  still,  of  course,  not  decisive  between  theories, 
for  what  Hering  means  by  green  is  a  color  which  is  pronounced  to 
be  blue-green  by  the  ordinary  consciousness,  and  this  in  spite  of  the 
fact  that  it  is  precisely  for  the  satisfaction  of  the  ordinary  conscious- 
ness as  regards  color-sensation  that  Hering's  theory  has  been  devised. 



Contributions  to  the  Physiological  Psychology  of  the  Sense  of  Taste.  FRIED- 
RICH  KIESOW.  Abstract  of  papers  in  Philosophische  Studien,  Bd. 
X,  Heft  3,  pp.  329  ff ;  Heft  4,  pp.  523  ff. 

The  electric,  metallic  and  alkaline  tastes  being  reserved  for 
special  investigations,  the  present  work  treats  only  of  those  sensa- 
tions recognised  as  special  qualities,  viz.,  sweet,  sour,  salt  and  bit- 
ter. The  taste-substances  used  were:  chlornatr.,  muriatic  acid, 
sacch.  alb.,  sacch.,  quin.  sulph.,  and  quin.  pur.  In  all  cases 
in  which  chemical  combination  of  the  substances  was  to  be  strictly 
avoided  quin.  sulph.  and  not  quin.  pur.  was  used.  The  greatest  pos- 
sible chemical  purity  was  sought  for  these  substances,  which  were 
dissolved  in  distilled  water.  The  application  was  made  partly  by 
means  of  dropping-glass  tubes  on  which  a  scale  graduated  by 
•j^j-  cm.  was  engraved,  partly  by  means  of  soft  pointed  hair  brushes. 
All  disturbing  accompanying  sensations,  not  excepting  that  of  tem- 
perature, were  excluded.  The  simplest  way  to  accomplish  the  last 
was  to  raise  the  fluids  to  be  applied  to  the  temperature  of  the  mouth, 
viz.  37°  C.  Between  the  separate  experiments  the  mouth  was  rinsed 
out  with  pure  water  of  the  same  temperature,  37°  C.  After  having 
trained  the  subjects,  I  first  examined  the  cavity  of  the  mouth,  with 
a  view  to  determining  what  parts  were  receptive  of  sensations  of 
taste.  These  experiments  were  performed  both  on  children  and  on 
adults.  Taking  into  consideration  what  former  investigators  have 
found  out  the  total  results  of  this  chapter  will  be  given. 


1.  Besides  the  whole  surface  of  the  tongue  together  with  its  base 
and  the  under  surface  of  its  tip — the  hard  and  soft  palate,  without 
doubt  the  arcus  glosso-palatinus,  the  tonsils,  the  uvula,  the  isthmus 
fancium,  the  inside  of  the  epiglottis  and  the  mucous  membrane  of 
the  cheeks  participate  in  the  sensation  of  taste. 

2.  All  these  parts  are  sensitive  in  childhood;  in  adults  the  mucous 
membrane  of  the  cheeks,  the  middle  of  the  tongue  and,  with  a  few 
exceptions,  the  hard  palate  lose  their  sensitiveness.     In  some  cases 
the  under  surface  of  the  tip  of  the  tongue  on  both  sides  of  the  frenu- 
lum  remains  receptive  also  in  adults. 

3.  The  presence  of  disturbance  is  accounted  for,  sometimes  by 
an  affection  of  the  cavity  of  the  tympanum,  sometimes  by  individual 

It  must  be  remarked  that  the  perceptive  faculty  of  the  inner 
epiglottis  was  established  by  Michelson  and  Langendorff,1  that  of 
the  mucous  membrane  of  the  cheeks  in  childhood  by  Urbantschitsch.  * 
Concerning  the  retrogression  of  certain  taste  surfaces  in  adults  I 
must  refer  the  reader  to  my  longer  article  in  which  an  explanation 
according  to  the  theory  of  development  is  offered  and  literary  refer- 
ences given. 

In  a  further  investigation  I  tested  the  sensitiveness  of  the  differ- 
ent perceptive  parts  of  the  cavity  of  the  mouth,  by  taking  as 
measure  the  absolute  given  for  the  different  qualities  of  taste,  ob- 
taining in  this  way  the  following  general  results: 

i.  Sensitiveness  varies  for  the  different  qualities  on  the  different 
parts  of  the  tongue.  Sweet  is  tasted  best  on  the  tip  of  the  tongue, 
sour  on  the  edge,  and  bitter  at  the  base,  acid  equally  on  the  tip  and 
edges,  but  less  at  the  base. 

2.  With  regard  to  the  values  found  in  an  isolated  case  for  the 
other  taste-surfaces,  the  sensitiveness  for  sweet  and  bitter  appears  in 
the  following  order:  Soft  palate,  arcus  glosso-palatin.,  uvula,  under- 
surface  of  the  tip;  for  sour,  arcus  glosso-palat.,  palat.  molle,  uvula, 
under-surface  of  the  tip;  for  salt,  palatum  molle,  under-surface  of 
the  tip,  arcus  glosso-pal.,  uvula.     The  values  are  in  part  considerably 
below  those  noted  under  i.    Only  on  the  soft  palate  does  salt  reach 
the  normal  given. 

3.  A  single  investigation  showed  that  in  childhood  all  parts,  ex- 
cepting the  tip  and  edges  of  the  tongue,  possessed  nearly  the  same 

1  Centralblatt  f ttr  Physiol.     1892.     P.  204. 

2  Urbantschitsch,  Beobochtungen  iiber  Anomalien  des  Geschmacks,  etc.,  in  Forge 
von  Erkrankungen  der  Taukcnhdhlc.      1876. — I  desire  to  draw  special  attention  to  this 
interesting  work. 


sensitiveness  with  regard  to  sweet.  The  tip  and  edges  were  more 

4.  The  explanation  of  the  normal  condition,  as  of  individual  dif- 
ferences is  without  doubt  to  be  found  in  the  law  of  adaptation,  except- 
ing those  cases  in  which  pathological  causes,  obstructions,  etc., 

Further,  attention  was  directed  to  the  qualitative  conditions  of  the 
sensations  of  taste.  These  experiments  were  only  made  on  adults. 
First,  I  was  enabled  to  prove  that  all  four  above-named  qualities 
are  true  sensations  of  taste,  also  that  the  sensations  of  sour  and  salt 
must  not  be  excluded  from  the  sphere  of  taste  on  account  of  the 
accompanying  tactile  sensations.  On  the  contrary,  my  investiga- 
tions led  to  the  conclusion  that  all  our  perceptions  of  taste  are  ac- 
companied by  tactile  sensations,  although  in  different  degrees. 
Sweet  is  accompanied  on  and  near  the  limen  by  a  sensation  of 
smoothness,  at  higher  intensity  by  that  of  slipperiness,  at  very  great 
intensity  by  that  of  scratching  and  biting.  The  liminal  values  of 
bitter  are  accompanied  by  a  distinct  sensation  of  greasiness.  Even 
the  application  of  distilled  water  produced  with  some  of  my  subjects 
a  distinct  perception  of  taste.  Two  of  them  tasted  water  on  the  tip 
of  the  tongue  as  sweet,  on  the  edges  as  sour  and  sourish,  at  the 
base  bitter.  Others  tasted  it  as  bitter  in  the  whole  cavity  of  the 
mouth,  others  only  bitter  at  the  base  and  tasteless  on  the  other 
parts  of  the  tongue.  The  bitter  sensation  produced  by  distilled 
water  accompanied  the  single  sensation  called  forth  by  taste — sub- 
stances often  for  a  time  above  the  limen,  so  that  in  this  way  two 
sensations  arose  which  I  have  designated  as  double-sensations. 
Even  a  mechanical  stimulus  of  the  base  of  the  tongue  with  a  glass- 
rod  produced  with  me  and  with  many  of  my  subjects  a  sensation 
distinctly  bitter. 

Great  influence  in  the  region  of  taste  must  be  ascribed  to  asso- 
ciation and  the  effects  of  contrast.  The  conditions  of  contrast  I 
investigated  with  special  care;  the  total  results  of  which  maybe 
given  concisely  as  follows: 

1.  Contrasting  stimuli  must  be  recognized  in  the  sense  of  taste. 

2.  Salt  contrasts  with  sweet,  salt  with  sour,  sweet  with  sour. 

3.  Salt  and  sweet,  and  salt  and  sour  contrast  both  on  simultane- 
ous stimulation  of  corresponding  parts  of  the  tongue  and  on  succes- 
sive stimulation  of  the  same  taste-surface.     The  contrasts  of  sweet 
and  sour  could  only  be  observed  in  the  latter  case. 

4.  Bitter  forms  an  exception,  but  yet  perhaps  gives  rise  to  con- 
trasts restricted  to  individuals.  THE  AUTHOR. 




Psychologic  des  grands  calculateurs  et  joueurs  d'  tehees.    A.  BINET.   Paris, 

Hachette.     1894.     Pp.  VIII,  364. 
Travaux  du  Laboratoire  de  psychologic  physiologique  de  hautes-ttudes  a  la 

Sorbonne.     BEAUNIS,  BINET  and  others.     Anne"e,  1892;  pp.  100; 

annee,  1893;  pp.  58.     Paris,  Alcan.      1893-4. 

Travaux  du  Laboratoire  de  psychologic  physiologique  pendant  I'anne'e  1892— 
1893.  A.  BINET  and  others.  Rev.  Philos.  XXXVII,  111-119,. 
222-240  and  344-3S2.  1894, 

The  first  two  numbers  of  M.  Beaunis'  Annual,  (Travaux  du 
Laboratoire,}  indicate  the  main  lines  of  research  that  have  been  fol- 
lowed thus  far  in  the  new  psychological  laboratory  at  Paris,  of  which 
M.  Binet  is  the  leading  spirit.  Several  of  the  studies  appear  also,  as 
preliminary  reports,  in  the  pages  of  the  Revue  Philosophique.  The 
investigations  can  be  grouped  for  the  most  part  under  two  general 
heads,  audition  colorte  and  memory;  the  latter  are  incorporated  in  M. 
Binet' s  work  on  Great  Calculators  and  Chess  Players, 

M.  Binet  was  able  to  secure  two  noted  calculators  and  test  their 
powers  and  methods  at  some  length.  One  of  them,  M.  Inaudi,  was 
distinctly  of  the  auditory  type,  preferring  to  receive  his  data  orally; 
when  required  to  start  with  written  numbers,  he  always  repeated 
them  to  himself,  before  proceeding  with  the  problem.  The  other,. 
M.  Diamandi,  a  Greek,  was  quite  as  markedly  of  the  visual  type. 
M.  Binet  devotes  a  chapter  of  his  work  to  some  tests  made  on 
these  two,  together  with  a  distinguished  prestidigitator,  M.  Ar- 
nould,  to  determine  their  comparative  facility  in  memorizing  and 
repeating  numbers.  M.  Arnould's  method  is  to  associate  each 
numeral  with  a  certain  consonant;  by  adding  vowels  at  will,  he 
transforms  any  given  number  into  some  word  or  phrase,  which  he 
readily  memorizes;  when  called  on  he  simply  translates  this  back 
into  the  number.  M.  Inaudi  could  memorize  the  most  rapidly  of  the 
three  up  to  a  hundred  figures,  (36  in  im  30",  75  in  5m  30",  100  in 
i2m.),  which  was  as  far  as  he  was  tested.  As  between  MM.  Dia- 
mandi and  Arnould,  the  former  learned  the  first  few  figures  some- 
what more  quickly,  but  from  25  places  on  the  latter  had  a  decided 
advantage;  (D:  10  in  17",  25  in  3m,  50  in  7m,  100  in  25m;  A:  10 
in  20",  25  in  2m  30",  50  in  2m.  45",  100  in  i5m).  The  two  'direct' 
memorizers  nere  compensated,  however,  by  being  able  to  repeat  what 
they  had  learned  much  more  rapidly  than  M.  Arnould.  The  investi- 
gation is  particularly  interesting  in  view  of  the  dispute  as  to  the 


value  of  mnemonics.  It  would  be  interesting  to  test  also  the  com- 
parative durability  of  the  several  kinds  of  memory  by  experiments 
similar  to  those  of  Ebbinghaus.  M.  Inaudi  was  able  to  repeat  230 
numerals  that  he  had  learned  on  the  preceding  day,  but  the  experi- 
ment was  not  followed  out;  it  seems  probable  that  M.  Arnould  would 
have  been  able  to  retain  many  times  that  number.  (Mnemonic 
memorizing,  which  relies  on  mediating  associations,  might  be  called 
the  associative  type,  to  distinguish  it  from  the  auditive  and  visual, 
where  the  correlation  is  immediate.)  —  M.  Binet  endeavors  to  account 
for  the  rapidity  with  which  MM.  Inaudi  and  Diamandi  perform  com- 
plicated mathematical  operations,  in  a  number  of  ways,  (i)  By  the 
use  of  various  devices  which  simplify  the  problem.  (2)  By  an  ex- 
tension of  the  multiplication  table  to  products  of  two  place  numbers. 
(3)  By  the  aid  of  unconscious  mental  processes:  just  as  we  uncon- 
sciously adopt  results  in  multiplication,  from  the  memorized  table, 
so  one  accustomed  to  calculating  might  come  upon  results  intuitively, 
which  he  would  require  a  long  and  tedious  operation  to  reach,  if 
every  step  had  to  be  formulated.  Proceeding  mechanically  or  half- 
consciously,  he  would  not  need  to  use  words  or  symbols  to  indicate 
the  operations;  this  abbreviation  would  in  itself  shorten  the  time  con- 
siderably, and  M.  Binet  agrees  with  Scripture  in  emphasizing  its 
importance  in  the  'shorthand'  of  calculation,  even  if  the  process  be 
wholly  conscious  and  voluntary. 

The  second  part  of  M.  Binet's  work  treats  of  blind-fold  chess- 
playing.  By  means  of  a  questionnaire  and  personal  letters,  he  obtained 
from  a  large  number  of  players  more  or  less  complete  analyses  of 
their  methods  of  procedure.  According  to  this  testimony,  there 
are  three  principal  requisites  for  success:  (i)  Familiarity  with  the 
game,  through  practice  and  study;  especially  a  knowledge  of  the  best 
line  of  play  for  various  positions,  in  order  to  save  time  and  thought. 
This  is  far  more  essential  here  than  in  play  over  the  board.  (2) 
Memory,  in  order  to  retain  the  moves  already  played  or  the  position 
of  the  pieces  at  a  given  time.  (3)  Power  of  visualization.  This  last 
is  the  distinguishing  feature  of  blind-fold  playing.  In  some  players 
it  takes  a  very  concrete  form :  they  seem  to  see  the  squares,  dark  and 
light  alternately,  and  the  pieces  upon  them  more  or  less  distinctly. 
In  other  cases  it  is  rather  more  symbolic — abstract,  as  M.  Binet  terms 
it;  the  player  sees  only  part  of  the  board  at  a  time,  and  represents 
in  a  vague  way  the  pieces  and  their  positions;  but  he  works  by  means 
of  the  potency  of  the  pieces, — an  idea,  rational  rather  than  visual,  of 
what  each  one  can  do  from  its  given  position.  In  addition  to  this 
there  is  in  some  cases  a  verbal  memory;  /.  e.,  an  auditory  memory  of 


the  names  of  the  squares  and  moves;  a  great  many  players  repeat 
the  moves  in  a  low  tone  of  voice,  to  re-enforce  the  visual  memory- 

A  different  phase  of  memory  from  those  treated  in  this  book,  is 
taken  up  in  a  study  of  the  visual  memory  of  children;  225  school- 
children, from  9  to  13  years  of  age,  being  examined  in  groups  of 
four.  They  were  shown  a  line,  and  afterwards  asked  to  reproduce  it, 
or  pick  out  one  of  similar  length  from  a  set.  Three  standard  lengths, 
16,  40,  and  68  mm.,  were  used.  M.  Binet  does  not  mention  the  lapse 
of  time  between  the  original  presentation  and  the  choice  or  attempted 
reproduction  (10  to  15  min.  ?),  nor  the  differences  in  length  of  the 
lines  given  to  choose  from  in  the  second  place.  The  absence  of 
these  data  prevents  us  from  comparing  his  results  with  those  of  a 
somewhat  similar  investigation  recently  conducted  at  Princeton, 
(using  squares,  however,  instead  of  lines),  which  will  be  reported  in 
a  succeeding  number  of  this  REVIEW. 

Among  the  laboratory  studies  are  several  on  audition  colore'e.  M. 
Binet  and  his  colleagues  examined  a  number  of  persons  subject  to 
this  phenomenon,  in  order  to  determine  the  rapidity  with  which  they 
associate  the  color  with  the  word  or  vowel.  So  far  as  they  go,  the 
figures  seem  to  show  that  this  peculiar  color  association  is  not  more 
rapid  than  other  kinds  of  association;  M.  Binet  shows  by  experiments 
on  himself,  that  one  who  has  not  colored  audition  may  learn  a  set  of 
associations  between  vowels  and  colors  so  thoroughly,  as  to  be  able 
to  call  up  the  proper  one  in  each  case,  and  may  do  so  even  more 
rapidly  than  those  who  make  the  association  naturally. 


Assimilation  and  Association.     (I  and  II).     JAMES  WARD.     Mind,  N. 
S.,  II,  p.  347,  July,  1893,  and  III,  p.  509,  October,  1894. 

By  assimilation,  Dr.  Ward  means  the  recognition,  or  as  he  pre- 
fers to  say,  the  cognition,  involved  in  perception,  that  is,  what 
Hoffding  names  unmittelbares  Wiedererkennen.  His  central  position  is 
the  assertion  that  assimilation,  in  this  sense,  so  far  from  being  iden- 
tical with  association  or  explained  by  it,  is  really  the  necessary  pre- 
supposition of  association,  which  is  obviously  between  recognized 
objects  of  consciousness.  The  most  important  part  of  the  discussion 
is  the  vigorous  criticism  of  the  view  that  assimilation  is  really  a  case 
of  'association  by  contiguity '  and  that,  accordingly,  an  object  seems 
familiar  through  the  presence  of  faint  representations,  Nebenvorstel- 


lungen  of  events  or  objects,  formerly  connected  with  the  familiar  one. 
Dr.  Ward's  objections  to  this  theory  are  based  largely  on  physi- 
ological considerations.  From  Miiller,  Siemerling  and  others,  he 
quotes  cases  of  cerebral  disturbance,  in  which  "  visual  memory 
images  are  for  the  most  part  retained,  so  that  old  scenes  can  be 
recalled  and  familiar  objects  or  persons  accurately  described,  and 
yet  the  recognition  of  them  is  no  longer  possible,  when  such  persons 
or  objects  are  actually  present."  Dr.  Ward  insists,  perhaps  without 
sufficiently  considering  the  possibility  that  apparent  concrete  visual 
memory-images  may  really  be  verbal  images,  that  such  cases  would 
be  impossible  if  sense-percept  and  sense-image  were  exactly  the 
same.  Hence  he  denies  that  "the  seat  of  the  ideas  is  the  same  as 
the  seat  of  the  sensations,"  though  "of  course,"  he  adds;  "it  is  not 
likely  that  there  will  be  any  wide  separation  ....  both  might  even 
belong  to  the  same  convolution,  though  possibly  to  different  layers 
of  its  cortex."  Facts  of  brain  change,  especially  the  "evidence  of 
the  gradual  maturing  of  the  cerebral  projection-system  and  of  its 
priority  to  the  association-tracts  "  are  adduced  to  prove  the  physio- 
logical possibility  of  assimilation,  when  association  is  impossible.  In 
his  positive  treatment  of  assimilation,  Dr.  Ward  gives,  as  he  says, 
'no  precise  answer  to  the  question,'  but  this  is  natural,  for  his  ten- 
dency is  to  regard  assimilation  as  an  ultimate,  and  therefore  unan- 
alyzable,  aspect  of  conscious  activity.  Assimilation  is  consciousness 
of  familiarity,  and  the  interesting  parallel  between  cognitive  famili- 
arity and  motor  facility,  or  habit,  suggests,  at  the  outset,  that  the 
nature  of  familiarity  "is  to  be  formed  rather  in  the  subjective  than 
in  the  objective  constituents  of  consciousness."  Quite  in  conson- 
ance with  this  premonitory  remark,  assimilation  is,  in  the  end,  allied 
with  attention  of  a  'spontaneous,  selective  and  concentrated  form,' 
and  described  as  a  form  'of  subject  activity  and  interest.' 

The  most  curious  feature  of  the  essay,  is  Dr.  Ward's  persuasion 
that  his  theory  is  'in  the  main'  in  agreement  with  Hoffding's.  In 
contending  that  such  immediate  recognition  does  exist,  without 
necessarily  involving  contiguous  association,  both  authors  of  course 
agree.  But  Hoffding  expressly  makes  the  identification,  justly  repu- 
diated by  Ward,  of  assimilation  with  'association  by  similarity; '  and 
in  the  details  of  his  theory,  even  in  the  later,  modified  form  of  it,  he 
either,  as  Ward  admits,  "lays  dangerous  stress  on  the  physiological 
effects  of  mere  repetition,"  or  offers  a  psycho-mechanical  explana- 
tion differing  inherently  from  Ward's  emphatic  insistence  upon  the 
preeminently  subjective  nature  of  assimilation. 




History  and  Natural  Science.     W.  WINDELBAND.     Inaugural  Address 
as  Rector.     Strassburg,  May,  1894. 

The  current  division  of  the  experiential  sciences  into  natural 
sciences  and  sciences  of  mind  is  unfortunate.  Psychology  does  not 
fall  exclusively  in  either  class.  For  while  as  regards  its  object  of 
study  it  is  a  'science  of  mind,'  its  method  is  that  of  the  natural 
sciences,  viz.,  that  of  seeking  laws  of  processes,  whereas  most  of  the 
'  Geisteswissenschaften '  seek  to  set  forth  some  single  event  or  pro- 
cess in  its  historic  relations.  A  better  division  from  a  purely  metho- 
dological point  of  view  would  be  into  natural  and  historical  sciences. 
The  former  seek  universal  laws,  the  latter  seek  particular  historical 
facts.  The  goal  of  the  former  is  the  general  apodictic  judgment,  of 
the  latter  the  singular  assertory  proposition.  The  former  may  be 
called  nomothetic,  the  latter  idiographic^  bearing  in  mind  that  the  same 
material  may  often  be  considered  from  either  point  of  view.  Logic 
has  always  been  under  the  influence  of  the  nomothetic  thought  forms. 
It  has  centered  its  investigation  about  the  universal  judgment,  and 
as  regards  the  actual  procedure  of  science  to-day  we  have  devoted 
far  more  attention  to  the  theory  of  experimentation  than  to  the 
parallel  problems  of  historical  methodology. 

The  results  of  these  diverse  methods  are  widely  differing  struc- 
tures. History  presents  a  world  of  living,  concrete  individuals; 
science  leaves  out  all  that  is  individual  and  constructs  her  mathe- 
matical formulations  of  the  laws  of  motion,  her  world  of  atoms 
colorless  and  soundless.  This  at  once  suggests  the  question  as  to 
the  respective  values  of  the  two  results,  especially  as  regards  their 
influence  on  our  views  of  the  world  and  of  life.  Every  object  or  fact 
has  value  in  proportion  as  it  contributes  to  a  universal.  The  par- 
ticular may  fulfil  this  function,  however,  not  only  by  being  subsumed 
under  a  general  concept  but  also  by  forming  a  significant  constituent 
of  a  concrete  whole.  Man  is  preeminently  interested  in  the  indi- 
vidual and  unique,  especially  in  the  sphere  of  personality.  But  on 
the  other  hand  the  idiographic  sciences  which  portray  this  must 
employ  general  principles  furnished  by  the  nomothetic. 

These  two  moments  of  human  thought  cannot  be  reduced  to  one. 
Causal  explanation  of  historical  events  might  seem  to  indicate  a  pos- 
sibility of  completely  explaining  the  particular  from  universal  laws, 
and  so  Leibnitz  thought  that  ultimately  all  ve'rite's  de  fait  had  their 
grounds  in  the  ve'rite's  dternelles.  But  he  could  only  postulate  this  for 
the  divine  thought,  not  carry  it  out  for  human  intelligence.  This 


'  irreducibility '  may  be  illustrated  by  the  fact  that  every  event  may 
be  regarded  as  the  conclusion  of  a  syllogism  requiring  two  premises, — 
one,  the  major,  a  natural  law,  the  other  the  minor,  an  actual  ante- 
cedent in  time.  Hence  the  individual  can  never  be  completely  ex- 
plained, /.  e.,  reduced  to  general  laws.  This  is  illustrated  by  the 
impossibility  of  a  complete  analysis  of  personality  by  general  cate- 
gories, where  the  irreducible  element  appears  to  us  as  the  feeling  of 
the  causelessness  of  our  own  nature,  *.  e.,  individual  freedom. 

J.  H.  TUFTS. 

The  Conception  of  Infinity.     SHADWORTH  H.  HODGSON.     Proceedings 
of  the  Aristotelian  Society,  Vol.  II.,  No.  3,  Part  i. 

It  is  impossible  to  analyze  and  criticise  satisfactorily  in  so  brief  a 
space  as  is  contained  in  the  limits  of  this  review,  Mr.  Hodgson's 
interesting  and  closely  reasoned  paper  on  infinity.  I  can  only  give 
the  outline  of  his  argument  and  indicate  what  seem  to  me  its  strong 
and  its  weak  points. 

The  term  infinity,  Mr.  Hodgson  maintains,  signifies  an  attribute 
and  not  a  substance.  Since  all  attributes  qualify  the  substance  to 
which  they  belong,  infinity  must  be  a  quality  of  the  thing  to  which 
it  belongs.  But  though  infinity  is  thus  a  quality,  it  is,  so  to  speak, 
a  quantitative  quality.  In  the  wider  sense  of  the  word  it  is  a  quality  but 
not  in  the  narrower.  All  quantitative  determinations  of  things  are 
qualitative,  in  the  broader  sense  of  the  term.  There  must,  then, 
be  something  an  essential  quality  of  which  is  quantitative,  making  it 
capable  of  quantification. 

The  two  senses  in  which  the  word  quality  may  be  used  may  be 
brought  out  in  an  illustration  :  we  may  distinguish  in  the  experience 
we  call  a  rose  :  (i)  Certain  specific  feelings  such  as  color,  odor, 
etc.  (2)  Certain  properties  which  are  its  quantitative  elements, 
and  (3)  The  fact  that  certain  constituents  of  these  two  classes  are 
combined  in  a  particular  way  at  a  particular  time — the  '  existential ' 

The  second  class,  or  the  quantitative  constituents  of  the  exper- 
ience, are  the  source  of  our  having  the  perception  or  the  idea  of 
quantity  at  all.  There  are  two  constituents  of  this  class,  time-dura- 
tion and  space-extension.  Every  content  of  consciousness  must 
contain  a  constituent  of  class  (i)  and  of  class  (2).  The  constituents 
of  class  (2)  may  be  called  the  formal  element  of  consciousness. 
This  formal  element  alone  is  immediately  and  essentially  capable  of 
quantification,  and  is  the  source  of  all  our  knowledge  of  quantity. 


Feeling  is  only  quantifiable  indirectly,  in  virtue  of  its  occupying 
time,  or  both  space  and  time. 

Since,  therefore,  infinity  is  a  quantitative  quality,  it  is  to  time 
and  space  alone  that  it  must  in  the  last  resort  attach,  if  it  exists  at 
all  ;  and  time  and  space  are  those  entities  or  substances  or  things 
whose  essential  quality  is  to  be  quantifiable. 

But  looking  at  the  panorama  of  our  experience  where  we  will,  we 
find  that  divisions  between  feelings,  or  between  feeling  and  absence 
of  feeling,  are  always  divisions  which  fall  within  time  or  space,  never 
beyond  them,  i.  e.,  they  are  limits  beyond  which  there  are  space  and 
time  again,  whether  this  space  or  time  beyond  the  limit  is  or  is  not 
occupied  by  a  specific  feeling  or  content.  In  other  words  space  and 
time  in  their  entirety  are  wholly  limitless  and  inexhaustible. 

Infinity  is  a  fact  of  perception,  observed  alike  in  the  minima  and 
in  the  maxima  of  perception.  Our  perception  of  infinity  must  be 
carefully  distinguished  from  our  conception  of  infinity, — the  latter 
being  a  single  finite  item  in  a  whole  hierarchy  of  similar  concep- 
tions. Our  perception  of  the  infinity  of  space  and  time  is  a  fact  of 

If  what  precedes  be  true,  then  we  cannot  but  conceive  the  uni- 
verse as  infinitely  extended.  We  perceive  time  and  space  to  be 
infinite,  and  as  the  formal  element  of  consciousness  is  inseparable 
from  its  material  co-element  ('quality'  in  the  narrower  sense),  we 
must  conceive  existence  as  extending  commensurably  with  time  and 
space,  beyond  the  boundaries  of  existence  as  positively  known  by 
us.  Time  and  space,  beyond  the  bounds  of  any  content  positively 
known  to  us,  must  be  combined  with  some  co-element  or  other,  for 
it  is  only  as  a  co-element  that  we  know  them. 

The  universe  as  positively  known  or  knowable  is  a  world  of  mat- 
ter. The  unseen  world  may  be  immaterial,  and  faith  lays  hold 
upon  it,  thus  satisfying  the  demands  of  the  moral  nature,  which 
positive  knowledge  leaves  unsatisfied.  This  is  the  triumph  of  the 
Practical  Reason,  on  the  field  upon  which  the  Speculative  has  met 
with  defeat. 

Such  is  Mr.  Hodgson's  argument.  I  have  given  it  only  in 
abstract  and  I  have  eliminated  certain  portions,  but  I  have  not 
broken  the  chain  of  his  reasonings.  His  analysis  of  consciousness 
into  its  formal  and  material  elements  is,  I  think,  clear  and  masterly. 
His  style  is  simple  and  without  ornament, — -a  great  virtue  in  a 
philosophical  writer.  His  conclusion  does  not. appear  to  me  to  be 


I  shall  not  enter  into  a  general  discussion  of  the  infinity  and  in- 
finite divisibility  of  space  and  time,  though  I  think  his  arguments 
to  prove  these  are  not  above  reproach,  but  I  shall  confine  myself  to 
pointing  out  that  consistency  would  rob  him  of  his  world  of  faith, 
and  shut  him  up  to  the  world  of  matter,  or  such  part  of  it  as  comes 
within  experience. 

He  has  said  that  the  infinity  of  time  and  space  are  given  in  ex- 
perience. Time  and  space,  however,  are,  as  he  has  also  maintained, 
given  in  experience  only  as  co-elements, — they  are  inseparable  from 
the  material  elements  of  experience.  It  would  surely  seem  to  follow 
that  if  the  infinity  of  time  and  space  are  perceptual  facts,  the  infinity 
of  the  world  in  time  and  space  must  be  a  perceptual  fact  too.  Can 
we  have  an  experience  consisting  of  a  certain  limited  quantity  of 
'form*  and  'matter'  combined,  and,  extending  infinitely  beyond 
that,  an  experience  which  consists  of  but  the  one  element,  the 
formal  ?  Are  pure  space  and  pure  time  without  any  material  filling 
given  in  perception  ?  If  they  can  be,  a  world  beyond  the  limits  of 
the  known  world,  a  world  of  faith,  cannot  be  assumed  to  fill  the 
void,  for  the  void  can  be  conceived  as  unfilled,— no  co-element  is 
necessary.  If,  on  the  other  hand,  a  co-element  be  really  necessary, 
we  cannot  perceive  time  and  space  to  be  infinite,  without  at  the 
same  time  perceiving  that  which  fills  them  to  be  infinite,  for  they 
cannot  be  experienced  alone. 

Now  Mr.  Hodgson  holds  that  the  universe  is  not  positively 
known  to  us  as  infinite.  Its  infinity  is  not  a  perceptual  fact.  Must 
we  not  thence  conclude  that  the  infinity  of  time  and  space,  the 
formal  element  in  experience,  is  also  not  positively  known  to  us  ? 
Co-elements  must  be  co-extensive,  if  they  are  really  inseparable. 

Mr.  Hodgson  must  either  hold  that  the  formal  element  may  be 
divorced  from  the  material,  in  which  case  he  cannot  assume  the 
existence  of  an  unknown  world  to  fill  void  time  and  space  ;  or  that 
it  can  not,  in  which  case  he  must  admit  that,  if  we  positively  know 
time  and  space  to  be  infinite,  we  also  positively  know  the  existent 
world  to  be  infinite.  This  makes  an  argument  for  its  existence  un- 
necessary, and  rubs  out  the  line  between  the  worlds  of  knowledge 
and  of  faith. 

I  do  not  believe  Mr.  Hodgson  can  get  his  conclusion  without 
blowing  both  hot  and  cold  in  his  premises.  He  has  certainly  done 
so  in  this  argument. 



r  Abstraction  et  son  role  dons  V education  intellectuelle.  QUEYRAT.  Paris, 
Alcan,  1894.  Pp.  144. 

This  is  a  popular  statement  of  classical  ideas  on  abstraction, 
ideas  to  which  the  author  has  added,  in  order  to  rejuvenate  them, 
many  quotations  borrowed  from  contemporary  psychologists.  The 
book  merits  neither  praise  nor  blame  ;  it  may  be  useful  to  persons 
entirely  unacquainted  with  psychology.  It  should  serve  to  confirm 
others  in  the  idea  that  those  who  make  science  are  the  ones  who 
should  take  the  trouble  to  popularize  it.  A.  B. 



Memoirs  of  the  International  Congress  of  Anthropology.  Edited  by  C. 
STANILAND  WAKE.  Chicago,  1894.  Pp.  375. 

The  prompt  appearance  of  this  volume  (it  was  issued  last  spring) 
and  the  handsome  style  of  its  manufacture  secure  for  it  the  first 
words  of  commendation,  and  they  will  certainly  not  be  the  last. 

At  the  International  Congress,  of  which  it  is  the  record,  anthro- 
pology was  interpreted  in  its  widest  sense  as  the  science  of  man,  in 
all  directions  of  his  development,  physical  and  psychical.  An  effort 
was  made  to  consider  the  history  of  the  species  as  an  aggregate, 
and  to  lay  down  the  principles  for  its  scientific  analysis.  The  sepa- 
rate branches  considered  were  physical  anthropology,  archaeology, 
ethnology,  folk-lore,  religions  and  linguistics,  and  in  the  published 
volume  two  or  more  papers  are  given  on  each  of  these  divisions. 

While  all  of  them  are  meritorious,  a  few  deserve  special  mention 
on  account  of  the  extent  of  new  observations,  the  results  of  which 
they  present.  In  Dr.  Franz  Boas'  article  'The  Anthropology  of 
the  North  American  Indian,'  and  in  that  of  Dr.  Gerald  M.  West  on 
'The  Anthropometry  of  American  School  Children,' we  have  con- 
densed statements  of  the  many  thousand  measurements  undertaken 
by  the  Department  of  Ethnology  of  the  Columbian  Exposition.  For 
the  first  time  positive  data  of  wide  provenance  are  supplied  in  the 
two  branches  named. 

Another  paper  replete  with  new  facts  is  that  on  'Primitive 
Scales  and  Rhythms,'  by  Prof.  John  C.  Fillmore.  It  is  a  study  of 
the  musical  powers  of  the  American  Indian  by  one  deeply  versed  in 
the  theory  of  the  art. 

Mr.  Mercer  gives  an  account  of  the  discovery  by  himself  of  a 
flaked  flint  in  ancient  quaternary  gravels  in  Spain;  and  Prof.  O.  T. 
Mason  contributes  an  interesting  study  on  aboriginal  American 


mechanics.  Mrs.  S.  W.  Stevenson  illustrates  a  phase  of  primitive 
thought  by  tracing  an  ancient  Egyptian  rite;  and  Miss  Alice  C. 
Fletcher  presents  some  Omaha  love  songs,  showing  that  this  senti- 
ment is  also  one  of  those  which  are  primitive.  Two  of  the  articles 
are  in  German,  which  is  quite  appropriate  in  an  'international' 

It  is  to  be  regetted  that  psychology  proper  did  not  find  a  place 
among  the  subjects  discussed,  or  at  least  not  among  the  papers 
printed.  The  science  of  anthropology  is  not  a  science  when  psy- 
chology is  omitted,  and  the  sooner  its  commanding  position  in  the 
study  of  man  is  recognized  the  more  rapid  will  be  the  progress  of  a 
sound  knowledge  of  the  species.  D.  G.  BRINTON. 



The  Proceedings  of  the  International  Congress  of  Education  of  the 
World's  Columbian  Exhibition.  Held  in  Chicago,  July  25-28, 
1893.  New  York,  National  Educational  Association,  1894. 
Pp.  XVIII. +  1005. 

The  extended  series  of  volumes  representing  the  proceedings  of 
the  National  Educational  Association  since  its  formation,  in  1857,  is 
certainly  one  of  the  dreariest  collections  of  pedagogical  words  and 
phrases  to  be  found  in  our  language.  The  volumes  will  in  no  way 
stand  comparison  with  the  proceedings  of  the  American  Institute 
of  Instruction.  The  present  thick  volume  of  more  than  a  thousand 
pages  goes  far,  however,  toward  redeeming  the  whole  series.  It 
gives  an  encyclopedic  view  of  the  educational  theories  of  to-day  as 
presented  by  some  thousands  of  representative  men  and  women  from 
all  over  the  world  in  a  three  days'  educational  congress.  It  is  not 
generally  understood  that  there  were  in  Chicago  during  the  summer 
of  1893  two  educational  congresses  meeting  in  the  same  rooms  on 
successive  weeks,  and  each  divided  into  a  score  of  sections  covering 
essentially  the  same  ground.  The  first  congress,  July  lyth  to  25th, 
was  under  the  direction  of  the  Woman's  Branch  of  the  World's 
Congress  Auxiliary,  and  its  proceedings  have  never  been  published. 
The  second  congress  was  under  the  direction  of  the  National  Edu- 
cational Association,  July  25th  to  28th,  and  the  present  volume  gives 
most  of  the  papers  presented,  with  brief  notes  on  the  discussions. 

One  is  struck  in  reading  this  volume,  as  in  reading  all  the  teach- 
ers' literature  of  the  day,  with  the  fact  that  hardly  any  of  the  papers 
deal  with  what  has  been,  or  with  what  is  ;  they  all  struggle  with  the 


question  :  What  ought  to  be?  The  exceptions  are  to  be  found  in  the 
papers  of  some  of  the  foreign  delegates  who  describe  work  actually 
being  done  in  their  own  countries,  and  in  the  work  of  the  psychologi- 
cal sections.  It  would  seem  that  on  a  great  historical  occasion  like 
that  which  drew  the  congresses  together  it  might  have  been  expected 
that  some  effort  would  be  made  to  gather  up  the  results  of  our  past 
pedagogic  experience,  and  then  from  the  historical  point  of  view 
forecast  the  probable  future.  There  are  very  few  papers  written 
from  this  point  of  view,  but  most  of  the  discussions  are  purely  theo- 

The  work  of  the  section  in  Rational  Psychology  fills  some  thirty 
pages,  and  includes  studies  by  such  representative  men  as  Dr.  Mc- 
Cosh,  Prof.  Royce  and  President  Schurman.  Cynics  who  charge  us 
pedagogues  with  being  men  of  narrow  intellectual  interests  will  find 
sufficient  breadth  of  view  in  this  section  to  reverse  the  charge. 

Of  most  interest  to  readers  of  this  review  will  be  the  seventy 
pages  devoted  to  the  work  of  the  Congress  of  Experimental  Psy- 
chology in  Education.  Two  years  before,  at  its  meeting  in  Toronto, 
in  1891,  the  N.  E.  A.  had  given  some  attention  to  this  line  of  study 
through  two  round-table  conferences,  presided  over  by  G.  Stanley 
Hall,  though  they  were  not  recognized  as  a  part  of  the  regular  associa- 
tion work.  Again,  in  1892,  at  Saratoga,  two  round-table  meetings 
dealt  with  experimental  psychology,  but  the  meeting  in  Chicago  was 
really  the  first  great  educational  meeting  in  America  where  any  con- 
siderable time  was  set  aside  for  the  direct  study  of  the  original  stuff 
with  which  all  educational  theory  deals.  The  papers  at  Chicago 
present  special  studies  on  physical  development,  stuttering,  imagina- 
tion in  childhood,  children's  language,  children's  theology,  eye  and 
ear-mindedness,  the  psychology  of  reading  and  spelling,  reports  on 
work  being  done  in  different  parts  of  the  world,  with  several  more 
general  studies  showing  the  relation  of  this  sort  of  work  to  educa- 
tional theory  and  practice.  Such  well-known  men  are  represented 
as  G.  Stanley  Hall,  Wm.  Burnham,  James  Sully,  E.  M.  Hartwell, 
Francis  Warner,  and  Wm.  Bryan.  There  is  no  other  single  place 
where  so  much  material  has  been  brought  together  bearing  on  the 
study  of  children  as  in  this  volume,  with  the  exception  of  the  files  of 
the  Pedagogical  Seminary. 

The  volume  must  prove  to  be  a  valuable  and  permanent  reference 
book  for  students  interested  in  educational  theory  and  the  beginnings 
of  educational  psychology.  EARL  BARNES. 


NEW  BOOKS.  103 


Lehrbuch  der  Psychologic.      W.    VOLKMANN.       Vierte   Auf.,    Bd.    I. 

Cothen,  Schulze,  1894.     Pp.  vii  -f  511. 
Peregrinazioni  psicologiche.      TR.    VIGNOLI.      Milan,    Hoepli,    1895. 

Pp.  404- 

Filosofia  morale.     L.  FRISO.     Milan,  Hoepli,  1893.      Pp.  xii  -f  33 5« 
From  the  Greeks  to  Darwin.     H.  F.  OSBORN.      New  York,  Macmillan 

&  Co.,  and  London,  1894.     Pp.  x  -f  259- 
Lectures  on  Human  and  Animal  Psychology.     W.  WUNDT.     Translated 

from  the  second  German  edition  by  E.  Creighton  and  E.   B. 

Titchener.     London,   Swan,   Sonnenschein    &  Co. ;    New  York, 

Macmillan  &  Co.,  1894.     Pp.  x  -f-  454. 
Saggio  di  una  scala  normale  del  pensiero  astratto.     S.  DE  CRESCENTO. 

Naples,  d'Auria,  1893.     Pp.  27. 
Principii  di  logica  reale.     N.  R.  D' ALFONSO.     Rome,  Paravia,  1894. 

Pp.  7i. 
Genie  und  Entartung :  eine psychologische  Studie.    W.  HIRSCH.    Berlin  u. 

Leipzig,  Coblenz,  1894. 
Zur  Analyse  des  Apperceptionsbegriffs.       J.    KODIS.     Berlin,   Calvary, 

1893.  Pp.     202. 

Introduction  to  Comparative  Psychology.  C.  LLOYD  MORGAN.  Con- 
temporary Science  Series.  London,  Walter  Scott ;  New  York, 
imported  by  Charles  Scribner's  Sons,  1894.  Pp.  xiv,  382. 

Enhvurf  zu  einer  physiologischen  Erklarung  der  psychischen  Erscheinungen. 
I.  Thl.  SIGM.  EXNER.  Vienna,  Deuticke,  1894.  Pp.  viii  -f 

Studies  from  the  Yale  Psychological  Laboratory.  II.  Edited  by  ED- 
WARD W.  SCRIPTURE.  New  Haven,  Conn.,  Yale  University, 

1894.  Pp.  124.     $i. 

La  logique  sociale.     G.  TARDE.     Paris,  Alcan,   1894.     7  fr.  50. 
Me'moire   et   imagination.      LUCIEN   ARRE"AT.      Paris,    Alcan,    1894. 

2  fr.  50. 
Les  e'tats  intellectuels  dans  la  me'lancolie.     G.   DUMAS.     Paris,   Alcan, 

1895.  Pp.  144.      2  fr.  50. 

Les  lots  psychologiques  de  Involution  des  peuples.  G.  LE  BON.  Paris, 
Alcan,  1894.  2  fr.  50. 

104  NOTES. 


Ex-President  James  McCosh  of  Princeton  College  died  in  Prince- 
ton on  Nov.  1 6. 

Professor  O.  Kiilpe  has  been  called  from  Leipzig  to  the  Univer- 
sity of  Wurzburg. 

Professor  Sorley  has  been  called  to  the  University  of  Aberdeen. 

The  publication  is  announced  of  Prof.  Ribot's  lectures  at  the 
College  de  France.  The  volumes,  of  which  there  will  probably  be 
three,  are  now  in  press  for  early  issue. 

Mr.  A.  H.  Lloyd  has  been  made  Acting  Assistant  Professor  of 
Philosophy,  and  given  charge  of  the  department  for  the  year,  in  the 
University  of  Michigan.  Mr.  J.  Bigham,  Ph.D.  (Harvard),  and 
Mr.  Geo.  Rebec,  Ph.B.  (Michigan),  have  been  appointed  instructors 
in  the  same  institution,  the  former  to  direct  the  work  of  the  psycholo- 
gical laboratory. 

Dr.  W.  R.  Newbold  has  been  appointed  Assistant  Professor  of 
Philosophy  in  the  University  of  Pennsylvania. 

Dr.  S.  Mezes  has  been  appointed  Professor  of  Philosophy  in  the 
University  of  Texas. 

Dr.  Margaret  Washburn  has  been  appointed  Professor  of  Philoso- 
phy and  Psychology  in  Wells  College. 

Dr.  W.  B.  Elkin  has  been  appointed  Professor  of  Philosophy  in 
Colgate  University. 

VOL.  II.     No.  2.  MARCH,  1895. 




Harvard  University* 


The  nature  of  the  synthetic  unity  of  consciousness  is  one 
of  those  great  underlying  problems  that  divide  the  psycholo- 
gical schools.  We  know,  say,  a  dozen  things  singly  through 
a  dozen  different  mental  states.  But  on  another  occasion 
we  may  know  the  same  dozen  things  together  through  a 
single  mental  state.  The  problem  is  as  to  the  relation  of 
the  previous  many  states  to  the  later  one  state.  In  physical 
nature,  it  is  universally  agreed,  a  multitude  of  facts  always 
remain  the  multitude  they  were  and  appear  as  one  fact  only 
when  a  mind  comes  upon  the  scene  and  so  views  them,  as 
when  H-O-H  appear  as  « water '  to  a  human  spectator. 
But  when,  instead  of  extramental  'things,'  the  mind  com- 
bines its  own  « contents '  into  a  unity,  what  happens  is  much 
less  plain. 

The  matters  of  fact  that  give  the  trouble  are  among  our 
most  familiar  experiences.  We  know  a  lot  of  friends  and 
•can  think  of  each  one  singly.  But  we  can  also  think  of 
them  together,  as  composing  a  '  party  '  at  our  house.  We 
can  see  single  stars  appearing  in  succession  between  the 
clouds  on  a  stormy  night,  but  we  can  also  see  whole  con- 
stellations of  those  stars  at  once  when  the  wind  has  blown 
the  clouds  away.  In  a  glass  of  lemonade  we  can  taste  both 

1  Read  as  the  President's  Address  before  the  American  Psychological  Association 
at  Princeton,  December,  1894,  and  reprinted  with  some  unimportant  omissions,  a  few 
slight  revisions,  and  the  addition  of  some  explanatory  notes. 



the  lemon  and  the  sugar  at  once.  In  a  major  chord  our  ear 
can  single  out  the  c,  e,  g,  and  cr,  if  it  has  once  become 
acquainted  with  these  notes  apart.  And  so  on  through  the 
whole  field  of  our  experience,  whether  conceptual  or  sensi- 
ble. Neither  common  sense  nor  commonplace  psychology 
finds  anything  special  to  explain  in  these  facts.  Common 
sense  simply  says  the  mind  'Brings  the  things  together,' 
and  common  psychology  says  the  '  ideas '  of  the  various 
things  «  combine,'  and  at  most  will  admit  that  the  occasions 
on  which  ideas  combine  may  be  made  the  subject  of  inquiry. 
But  to  formulate  the  phenomenon  of  knowing  things  to- 
gether thus  as  a  combining  of  ideas,  is  already  to  foist  in  a 
theory  about  the  phenomenon  simply.  Not  so  should  a 
question  be  approached.  The  phenomenon  offers  itself,  in 
the  first  instance,  as  that  of  knowing  things  together  ;  and  it 
is  in  those  terms  that  its  solution  must,  in  the  first  instance 
at  least,  be  sought. 

'Things,'  then;  to  'know'  things;  and  to  know  the 
4  same  '  things  « together '  which  elsewhere  we  knew  singly 
— here,  indeed,  are  terms  concerning  each  of  which  we  must 
put  the  question,  '  What  do  we  mean  by  it  when  we  use 
it?' — that  question  that  Shad  worth  Hodgson  lays  so  much 
stress  on,  and  that  is  so  well  taught  to  students,  as  the 
beginning  of  all  sound  method,  by  our  colleague  Fullerton. 
And  in  exactly  ascertaining  what  we  do  mean  by  such  terms 
there  might  lie  a  lifetime  of  occupation. 

For  we  do  mean  something;  and  we  mean  something 
true.  Our  terms,  whatever  confusion  they  may  connote, 
denote  at  least  a  fundamental  fact  of  our  experience,  whose 
existence  no  one  here  present  will  deny. 


What,  then,  do  we  mean  by  '  things'  ?  To  this  question 
I  can  only  make  the  answer  of  the  idealistic  philosophy. 
For  the  philosophy  that  began  with  Berkeley,  and  has  led 
up  in  our  tongue  to  Shadworth  Hodgson,  things  have  no 
other  nature  than  thoughts  have,  and  we  know  of  no  things 
that  are  not  given  to  somebody's  experience.  When  I  see 


the  thing  white  paper  before  my  eyes,  the  nature  of  the 
thing  and  the  nature  of  my  sensations  are  one.  Even  if 
with  science  we  supposed  a  molecular  architecture  beneath 
the  smooth  whiteness  of  the  paper,  that  architecture  itself 
could  only  be  defined  as  the  stuff  of  a  farther  possible  expe- 
rience, a  vision,  say,  of  certain  vibrating  particles  with 
which  our  acquaintance  with  the  paper  would  terminate  if 
it  were  prolonged  by  magnifying  artifices  not  yet  known. 
A  thing  may  be  my  phenomenon  or  some  one  else's;  it  may 
be  frequently  or  infrequently  experienced ;  it  may  be  shared 
by  all  of  us ;  one  of  our  copies  of  it  may  be  regarded  as  the 
original,  and  the  other  copies  as  representatives  of  that 
original;  it  may  appear  very  differently  at  different  times; 
but  whatever  it  be,  the  stuff  of  which  it  is  made  is  thought- 
stuff,  and  whenever  we  speak  of  a  thing  that  is  out  of  our 
own  mind,  we  either  mean  nothing;  or  we  mean  a  thing  that 
was  or  will  be  in  our  own  mind  on  another  occasion ;  or, 
finally,  we  mean  a  thing  in  the  mind  of  some  other  possible 
receiver  of  experiences  like  ours. 

Such  being  'things,'  what  do  we  mean  by  saying  that 
we  '  know  '  them  ? 

There  are  two  ways  of  knowing  things,  knowing  them 
immediately  or  intuitively,  and  knowing  them  conceptually 
or  representatively.  Although  such  things  as  the  white 
paper  before  our  eyes  can  be  known  intuitively,  most  of  the 
things  we  know,  the  tigers  now  in  India,  for  example,  or 
the  scholastic  system  of  philosophy,  are  known  only  repre- 
sentatively or  symbolically. 

Suppose,  to  fix  our  ideas,  that  we  take  first  a  case  of 
conceptual  knowledge ;  and  let  it  be  our  knowledge  of  the 
tigers  in  India,  as  we  sit  here.  Exactly  what  do  we  mean 
by  saying  that  we  here  know  the  tigers  ?  What  is  the  pre- 
cise fact  that  the  cognition  so  confidently  claimed  is  known- 
as,  to  use  Shadworth  Hodgson's  inelegant  but  valuable  form 
of  words  ? 

Most  men  would  answer  that  what  we  mean  by  knowing 
the  tigers  is  having  them,  however  absent  in  body,  become 
in  some  way  present  to  our  thought;  or  that  our  knowledge 
of  them  is  known  as  presence  of  our  thought  to  them.  A 
great  mystery  is  usually  made  of  this  peculiar  presence  in 


absence ;  and  the  scholastic  philosophy,  which  is  only  com- 
mon sense  grown  pedantic,  would  explain  it  as  a  peculiar 
kind  of  existence,  called  intentional  inexistence,  of  the  tigers 
in  our  mind.  At  the  very  least,  people  would  say  that  what 
we  mean  by  knowing  the  tigers  is  mentally  pointing  towards 
them  as  we  sit  here. 

But  now  what  do  we  mean  by  pointing,  in  such  a  case 
as  this  ?  What  is  the  pointing  known-as,  here  ? 

To  this  question  I  shall  have  to  give  a  very  prosaic 
answer — one  that  traverses  the  prepossessions  not  only  of 
common  sense  and  scholasticism,  but  also  those  of  nearly  all 
the  epistemological  writers  whom  I  have  ever  read.  The 
answer,  made  brief,  is  this:  The  pointing  of  our  thought 
to  the  tigers  is  known  simply  and  solely  as  a  procession 
of  mental  associates  and  motor  consequences  that  follow  on 
the  thought,  and  that  would  lead  harmoniously,  if  followed 
out,  into  some  ideal  or  real  context,  or  even  into  the  imme- 
diate presence,  of  the  tigers.  It  is  known  as  our  rejection 
of  a  jaguar,  if  that  beast  were  shown  us  as  a  tiger ;  as  our 
assent  to  a  genuine  tiger  if  so  shown.  It  is  known  as  our 
ability  to  utter  all  sorts  of  propositions  which  don't  contra- 
dict other  propositions  that  are  true  of  the  real  tigers.  It 
is  even  known,  if  we  take  the  tigers  very  seriously,  as 
actions  of  ours  which  may  terminate  in  directly  intuited 
tigers,  as  they  would  if  we  took  a  voyage  to  India  for  the 
purpose  of  tiger-hunting  and  brought  back  a  lot  of  skins  of 
the  striped  rascals  which  we  had  laid  low.  In  all  this  there 
is  no  self-transcendency  in  our  mental  images  taken  by 
themselves.  They  are  one  physical  fact;  the  tigers  are 
another ;  and  their  pointing  to  the  tigers  is  a  perfectly  com- 
monplace physical  relation,  if  you  once  grant  a  connecting 
world  to  be  there.  In  short,  the  ideas  and  the  tigers  are  in 
themselves  as  loose  and  separate,  to  use  Hume's  language, 
as  any  two  things  can  be;  and  pointing  means  here  an 
operation  as  external  and  adventitious  as  any  that  nature 

1 A  stone  in  one  field  may  '  fit,'  we  say,  a  hole  in  another  field.  But  the  relation 
of  '  fitting,'  so  long  as  no  one  carries  the  stone  to  the  hole  and  drops  it  in,  is  only  one 
name  for  the  fact  that  such  an  act  may  happen.  Similarly  with  the  knowing  of  the 
tigers  here  and  now.  It  is  only  an  anticipatory  name  for  a  further  associative  and  ter- 
•minative  process  that  may  occur. 


I  hope  you  may  agree  with  me  now  that  in  representative 
knowledge  there  is  no  special  inner  mystery,  but  only  an 
outer  chain  of  physical  or  mental  intermediaries  connecting 
thought  and  thing.  To  know  an  object  is  here  to  lead  to  it 
through  a  context  which  the  world  supplies.  All  this  was  most 
instructively  set  forth  by  our  colleague  Miller,  of  Bryn 
Mawr,  at  our  meeting  in  New  York  last  Christmas,  and  for 
re-confirming  my  sometime  wavering  opinion,  I  owe  him 
this  acknowledgment.1 

Let  us  next  pass  on  to  the  case  of  immediate  or  intuitive 
acquaintance  with  an  object,  and  let  the  object  be  the  white 
paper  before  our  eyes.  The  thought-stuff  and  the  thing- 
stuff  are  here'  indistinguishably  the  same  in  nature,  as  we 
saw  a  moment  since,  and  there  is  no  context  of  intermedia- 
ries or  associates  to  stand  between  and  separate  the  thought 
and  thing.  There  is  no  'presence  in  absence'  here,  and  no 
'  pointing,'  but  rather  an  allround  embracing  of  the  paper  by 
the  thought ;  and  it  is  clear  that  the  knowing  cannot  now  be 
explained  exactly  as  it  was  when  the  tigers  were  its  object. 
Dotted  all  through  our  experience  are  states  of  immediate 
acquaintance  just  like  this.  Somewhere  our  belief  always 
does  rest  on  ultimate  data  like  the  whiteness,  smoothness, 
or  squareness  of  this  paper.  Whether  such  qualities  be 
truly  ultimate  aspects  of  being  or  only  provisional  supposi- 
tions of  ours,  held-to  till  we  get  better  informed,  is  quite 
immaterial  for  our  present  inquiry.  So  long  as  it  is  believed 
in,  we  see  our  object  face  to  face.  What  now  do  we  mean 
by  '  knowing'  such  a  sort  of  object  as  this?  For  this  is  also 
the  way  in  which  we  should  know  the  tiger  if  our  concep- 
tual idea  of  him  were  to  terminate  by  having  led  us  to  his 

This  address  must  not  become  too  long,  so  I  must  give 
my  answer  in  the  fewest  words.  And  let  me  first  say  this : 
So  far  as  the  white  paper  or  other  ultimate  datum  of  our 
experience  is  considered  to  enter  also  into  some  one  else's 
experience,  and  we,  in  knowing  it,  are  held  to  know  it  there 
as  well  as  here ;  so  far  again  as  it  is  considered  to  be  a  mere 

1  See  also  Dr.  Miller's  article  on  Truth  and  Error,  in  the  Philosophical  Review, 
July,  1893. 



•<mask  for  hidden  molecules  that  other  now  impossible  expe- 
diences of  our  own  might  some  day  lay  bare  to  view ;  so  far 
iit  is  a  case  of  tigers  in  India  again — the  things  known  being 
^absent  experiences,  the  knowing  can  only  consist  in  passing 
smoothly  towards  them  through  the  intermediary  context 
that  the  world  supplies.  But  if  our  own  private  vision  of 
the  paper  be  considered  in  abstraction  from  every  other 
event,  as  if  it  constituted  by  itself  the  universe  (and  it  might 
perfectly  well  do  so,  for  aught  we  can  understand  to  the 
contrary),  then  the  paper  seen  and  the  seeing  of  it  are  only 
two  names  for  one  indivisible  fact  which,  properly  named,  is 
the  datum,  the  phenomenon,  or  the  experience.  The  paper  is  in 
the  mind  and  the  mind  is  around  the  paper,  because  paper 
and  mind  are  only  two  names  that  are  given  later  to  the  one 
experience,  when,  taken  in  a  larger  world  of  which  it  forms 
a  part,  its  connections  are  traced  in  different  directions.1  To 
know  immediately,  then,  or  intuitively,  is  for  mental  content  and 
object  to  be  identical.  This  is  a  very  different  definition  from 
that  which  we  gave  of  representative  knowledge ;  but  neither 
definition  involves  those  mysterious  notions  of  self-transcen- 
dency and  presence  in  absence  which  are  such  essential  parts 
of  the  ideas  of  knowledge,  both  of  common  men  and  of 

1  What  is  meant  by  this  is  that  '  the  experience '  can  be  referred  to  either  of  two 
great  associative  systems,  that  of  the  experiencer's  mental  history,  or  that  of  the  expe- 
rienced facts  of  the  world.  Of  both  of  these  systems  it  forms  part,  and  may  be 
regarded,  indeed,  as  one  of  their  points  of  intersection.  One  might  let  a  vertical  line 



stand  for  the  mental  history ;  but  the  same  object,  O,  appears  also  in  the  mental  history 
of  different  persons,  represented  by  the  other  vertical  lines.  It  thus  ceases  to  be  the 
private  property  of  one  experience,  and  becomes,  so  to  speak,  a  shared  or  public  thing. 
We  can  track  its  outer  history  in  this  way,  and  represent  it  by  the  horizontal  line.  [It 
is  also  known  representatively  at  other  points  of  the  vertical  lines,  or  intuitively  there 
again,  so  that  the  line  of  its  outer  history  would  have  to  be  looped  and  wandering,  but 
I  make  it  straight  for  simplicity's  sake.]  In  any  case,  however,  it  is  the  same  stu/ 
that  figures  in  all  ths  sets,  of  lines. 


philosophers.     Is  there  no  experience  that  can  justify  these 
notions,  and  show  us  somewhere  their  original? 

I  think  the  mystery  of  presence  in  absence  (though  we 
fail  to  find  it  between  one  experience  and  another  remote 
experience  to  which  it  points,  or  between  the  «  content '  and 
*  object*  of  any  one  experience  falsely  rent  asunder  by  the  ap- 
plication to  it  of  these  two  separate  names)  may  yet  be  found, 
and  found  between  the  parts  of  a  single  experience.  Let  us 
look  for  it,  accordingly,  in  its  simplest  possible  form.  What 
is  the  smallest  experience  in  which  the  mystery  remains? 
If  we  seek,  we  find  that  there  is  no  datum  so  small  as  not  to 
show  the  mystery.  The  smallest  effective  pulse  of  conscious- 
ness, whatever  else  it  may  be  consciousness  of,  is  also  con- 
sciousness of  passing  time.  The  tiniest  feeling  that  we  can 
possibly  have  involves  for  future  reflection  two  sub-feelings, 
one  earlier  and  the  other  later,  and  a  sense  of  their  continu- 
ous procession.  All  this  has  been  admirably  set  forth  by 
Mr.  Shadworth  Hodgson,1  who  shows  that  there  is  literally 
no  such  datum  as  that  of  the  present  moment,  and  no  such 
content,  and  no  such  object,  except  as  an  unreal  postulate  of 
abstract  thought.  The  passing  moment  is  the  only  thing 
that  ever  concretely  was  or  is  or  shall  be ;  and  in  the  phe- 
nomenon of  elementary  memory,  whose  function  is  to  appre- 
hend it,  earlier  and  later  are  present  to  each  other  in  an 
experience  that  feels  either  only  on  condition  of  feeling  both 

We  have  the  same  knowing  together  in  the  matter  that 
fills  the  time.  The  rush  of  our  thought  forward  through  its 
fringes  is  the  everlasting  peculiarity  of  its  life.  We  realize 
this  life  as  something  always  off  its  balance,  something  in 
transition,  something  that  shoots  out  of  a  darkness  through  a 
dawn  into  a  brightness  that  we  know  to  be  the  dawn  fulfilled. 
In  the  very  midst  of  the  alteration  our  experience  comes  as 
one  continuous  fact.  «  Yes,'  we  say  at  the  moment  of  full 
brightness,  this  is  what  I  meant.  No,  we  feel  at  the  moment 
of  the  dawning,  this  is  not  yet  the  meaning,  there  is  more 
to  come.  In  every  crescendo  of  sensation,  in  every  effort 

1  Philosophy  of  Reflection,  Vol.  I,  p.  248  ff. 


to  recall,  in  every  progress  towards  the  satisfaction  of  desire, 
this  succession  of  an  emptiness  and  fulness  that  have  refer- 
ence to  each  other  and  are  one  flesh  is  the  essence  of  the 
phenomenon.  In  every  hindrance  of  desire  the  sense  of 
ideal  presence  of  what  is  absent  in  fact,  of  an  absent,  in  a 
word,  which  the  only  function  of  the  present  is  to  mean,  is 
even  more  notoriously  there.  And  in  the  movement  of 
thoughts  not  ordinarily  classed  as  involving  desire,  we  have 
the  same  phenomenon.  When  I  say  Socrates  is  \mortal,  the 
moment  Socrates  is  incomplete ;  it  falls  forward  through  the 
is  which  is  pure  movement,  into  the  mortal,  which  is  indeed 
bare  mortal  on  the  tongue,  but  for  the  mind,  is  that  mortal, 
the  mortal  Socrates,  at  last  satisfactorily  disposed  of  and 
told  off. 

Here,  then,  inside  of  the  minimal  pulse  of  experience 
which,  taken  as  object,  is  change  of  feeling,  and,  taken  as 
content,  is  feeling  of  change,  is  realized  that  absolute  and 
essential  self-transcendency  which  we  swept  away  as  an 
illusion  when  we  sought  it  between  a  content  taken  as  a 
whole  and  a  supposed  objective  thing  outside.  Here  in  the 
elementary  datum  of  which  both  our  physical  and  our  men- 
tal worlds  are  built,  we  find  included  both  the  original  of 
presence  in  absence  and  the  prototype  of  that  operation  of  know- 
ing many  things  together  which  it  is  our  business  to  discuss  }• 

1  It  seems  to  me  that  we  have  here  something  like  what  comes  before  us  in  the 
psychology  of  space  and  time.  Our  original  intuition  of  space  is  the  single  field  of 
view  ;  our  original  intuition  of  time  covers  but  a  few  seconds  ;  yet  by  an  ideal  piecing 
together  and  construction  we  frame  the  notions  of  immensity  and  eternity,  and  sup- 
pose dated  events  and  located  things  therein,  of  whose  actual  intervals  we  grasp  no 
distinct  idea.  So  in  the  case  before  us.  The  way  in  which  the  constituents  of  one 
undivided  datum  drag  each  other  in  and  run  into  one,  saying  this  is  what  that  means, 
gives  us  our  original  intuition  of  what  knowing  is.  That  intuition  we  extend  and  con- 
structively build  up  into  the  notion  of  a  vast  tissue  of  knowledge,  shed  along  from 
experience  to  experience  until,  dropping  the  intermediary  data  from  our  thought,  we 
assume  that  terms  the  most  remote  still  know  each  other,  just  after  the  fashion  of  the 
parts  of  the  prototypal  fact.  Cognition  here  is  only  constructive,  as  we  have  already 
seen.  But  he  who  should  say,  arguing  from  its  nature  here,  that  it  nowhere  is  direct, 
and  seek  to  construct  it  without  an  originally  given  pattern,  would  be  like  those  psy- 
chologists who  profess  to  develop  our  idea  of  space  out  of  the  association  of  data  that 
possess  no  original  extensity.  Grant  the  sort  of  thing  that  is  meant  by  presence  in 
absence,  by  self-transcendency,  by  reference  to  another,  by  pointing  forward  or  back, 
by  knowledge  in  short,  somewhere  in  our  experience,  be  it  in  ever  so  small  a  corner, 
and  the  construction  of  pseudo-cases  elsewhere  follows  as  a  matter  of  course.  But  to 
get  along  without  the  real  thing  anywhere  seems  difficult  indeed. 


For  the  fact  that  past  and  future  are  already  parts  of 
the  least  experience  that  can  really  be,  is  just  like  what 
we  find  in  any  other  case  of  an  experience  whose  parts 
are  many.  Most  of  these  experiences  are  of  objects  per- 
ceived to  be  simultaneous  and  not  to  be  immediately  suc- 
cessive as  in  the  heretofore  considered  case.  The  field  of 
view,  the  chord  of  music,  the  glass  of  lemonade  are  exam- 
ples. But  the  gist  of  the  matter  is  the  same — it  is  always 
knowing-together.  You  cannot  separate  the  consciousness 
of  one  part  from  that  of  all  the  rest.  What  is  given  is 
pooled  and  mutual;  there  is  no  dark  spot,  no  point  of  ignor- 
ance ;  no  one  fraction  is  eclipsed  from  any  other's  point  of 
view.  Can  we  account  for  such  a  being-known-together 
of  complex  facts  like  these  ? 

The  general  nature  of  it  we  can  probably  never  account 
for,  or  tell  how  such  a  unity  in  manyness  can  be,  for  it 
seems  to  be  the  ultimate  essence  of  all  experience,  and  any- 
thing less  than  it  apparently  cannot  be  at  all.  But  the 
particular  conditions  whereby  we  know  particular  things 
together  might  conceivably  be  traced,  and  to  that  humble 
task  I  beg  leave  to  devote  the  time  that  remains. 


Let  me  say  forthwith  that  I  have  no  pretension  to  give 
any  positive  solution.  My  sole  ambition  now  is,  by  a  little 
classification,  to  smooth  the  ground  somewhat  so  that  some 
of  you,  more  able  than  I,  may  be  helped  to  advance,  before 
our  next  meeting  perhaps,  to  results  that  I  cannot  obtain. 

Now,  the  first  thing  that  strikes  us  in  these  complex 
cases  is  that  the  condition  by  which  one  thing  may  come  to 
be  known  together  with  other  things  is  an  event.  It  is  often 
an  event  of  the  purely  physical  order.  A  man  walks  sud- 
denly into  my  field  of  view,  and  forthwith  becomes  part 
of  it.  I  put  a  drop  of  cologne-water  on  my  tongue,  and, 
holding  my  nostrils,  get  the  taste  of  it  alone,  but  when  I 
open  my  nostrils  I  get  the  smell  together  with  the  taste  in 
mutual  suffusion.  Here  it  would  seem  as  if  a  sufficient  con- 
dition of  the  knowing  of  (say)  three  things  together  were 
the  fact  that  the  three  several  physical  conditions  of  the 


knowing  of  each  of  them  were  realized  at  once.  But  in  many 
other  cases  we  find  on  the  contrary  that  the  physical  condi- 
tions are  realized  without  the  things  being  known  together 
at  all.  When  absorbed  in  experiments  with  the  cologne- 
water,  for  example,  the  clock  may  strike,  and  I  not  know 
that  it  has  struck.  But  again,  some  seconds  after  the  stri- 
king has  elapsed,  I  may,  by  a  certain  shifting  of  what  we  call 
my  attention,  hark  back  to  it  and  resuscitate  the  sound,  and 
even  count  the  strokes  in  memory.  The  condition  of  know- 
ing the  clock's  striking  is  here  an  event  of  the  mental  order 
which  must  be  added  to  the  physical  event  of  the  striking 
before  I  can  know  it  and  the  cologne-water  at  once.  Just 
so  in  the  field  of  view  I  may  entirely  overlook  and  fail  to 
notice  even  so  important  an  object  as  a  man,  until  the  in- 
ward event  of  altering  my  attention  makes  me  suddenly  see 
him  with  the  other  objects  there.  In  those  curious  phe- 
nomena of  dissociation  of  consciousness  with  which  recent 
studies  of  hypnotic,  hysteric  and  trance-states  have  made  us 
familiar  (phenomena  which  surely  throw  more  new  light  on 
human  nature  than  the  work  of  all  the  psycho-physical 
laboratories  put  together),  the  event  of  hearing  a  '  sugges- 
tion,' or  the  event  of  passing  into  trance  or  out  of  it,  is  what 
decides  whether  a  human  figure  shall  appear  in  the  field  of 
view  or  disappear,  and  whether  a  whole  set  of  memories 
shall  come  before  the  mind  together,  along  with  its  other 
objects,  or  be  excluded  from  their  company.  There  is  in 
fact  no  possible  object,  however  completely  fulfilled  may  be 
the  outer  condition  of  its  perception,  whose  entrance  into  a 
given  field  of  consciousness  does  not  depend  on  the  addi- 
tional inner  event  called  attention. 

Now,  it  seems  to  me  that  this  need  of  a  final  inner  event, 
over  and  above  the  mere  sensorial  conditions,  quite  refutes 
and  disposes  of  the  associationist  theory  of  the  unity  of  con- 
sciousness. By  associationist  theory,  I  mean  any  theory 
that  says,  either  implicitly  or  explicitly,  that  for  a  lot  of 
objects  to  be  known  together,  it  suffices  that  a  lot  of  con- 
scious states,  each  with  one  of  them  as  its  content,  should 
exist,  as  James  Mill  says,  «  synchronically.'  Synchronical 
existence  of  the  ideas  does  not  suffice,  as  the  facts  we  now 


have  abundantly  show.  Gurney's,  Binet's  and  Janet's  proofs 
of  several  dissociated  consciousnesses  existing  synchroni- 
cally,  and  dividing  the  subject's  field  of  knowledge  between 
them,  is  the  best  possible  refutation  of  any  such  view. 

Union  in  consciousness  must  be  made  by  something, 
must  be  brought  about;  and  to  have  perceived  this  truth  is 
the  great  merit  of  the  anti-associationist  psychologists.1 
The  form  of  unity,  they  have  obstinately  said,  must  be 
specially  accounted  for;  and  the  form  of  unity  the  radical 
associationists  have  as  obstinately  shied  away  from  and 
ignored,  though  their  accounts  of  those  preliminary  condi- 
tions that  supply  the  matters  to  be  united  have  never  been 
surpassed.  As  far  as  these  go,  we  are  all,  I  trust,  associa- 
tionists, and  reverers  of  the  names  of  Hartley,  Mill,  and 

Let  us  now  rapidly  review  the  chief  attempts  of  the  anti- 
associationists  to  fill  the  gap  they  discern  so  well  in  the 
associationist  tale. 

i.  Attention. — Attention,  we  say,  by  turning  to  an  object, 
includes  it  with  the  rest;  and  the  naming  of  this  faculty  in 
action  has  by  some  writers  been  considered  a  sufficient 
account  of  the  decisive  'event.'2  But  it  is  plain  that  the 
act  of  Attention  itself  needs  a  farther  account  to  be  given, 
and  such  an  account  is  what  other  theories  of  the  event 
implicitly  give. 

We  find  four  main  types3  of  other  theory  of  how  par- 

1  In  this  rapid  paper  I  content  myself  with  arguing  from  the  experimental  fact 
that  something  happens  over  and  above  the  realization  of  sensorial  conditions,  wherever 
an  object  adds  itself  to  others  already  '  before  the  mind.'  I  say  nothing  of  the  logical 
self-contradiction  involved  in  the  associationist  doctrine  that  the  two  facts,  '  A  is 
known,'  and  'Bis  known,'  are  the  third  fact,  'A  +  B  are  known  together.'  Those 
•whom  the  criticisms  already  extant  in  print  of  this  strange  belief  have  failed  to  con- 
vince, would  not  be  persuaded,  even  though  one  rose  from  the  dead.  The  appeal  to 
the  actual  facts  of  dissociation  may  make  impression,  however,  even  on  such  hardened 
hearts  as  theirs. 

*  It  might  seem  natural  to  mention  Wundt's  doctrine  of  '  Apperception '  here. 
But  I  must  confess  my  inability  to  say  anything  about  it  that  would  not  resolve  itself 
into  a  tedious  comparison  of  texts.  Being  alternately  described  as  intellection,  will, 
feeling,  synthesis,  analysis,  principle  and  result,  it  is  too  '  protean '  a  function  to  lend 
itself  to  any  simplified  account  at  second  hand. 

8  It  is  only  for  the  sake  of  completeness  that  we  need r  mention  such  notions  of  a 
$ort  of  mechanical  and  chemical  activity  between  the  ideas  as  we  find  in  Herbart, 


ticular  things  get  known  together,  a  physiological,  a  psy- 
chological, an  animistic,  and  a  transcendentalist  type.  Of 
the  physiological  or  '  psycho-physical '  type  many  varieties 
are  possible,  but  it  must  be  observed  that  none  of  them  pre- 
tends to  assign  anything  more  than  an  empirical  law.  A 
psycho-physical  theory  can  couple  certain  antecedent  condi- 
tions with  their  result;  but  an  explanation,  in  the  sense  of 
an  inner  reason  why  the  result  should  have  the  nature  of 
one  content  with  many  parts  instead  of  some  entirely  differ- 
ent nature,  is  what  a  psycho-physical  theory  cannot  give.1 

2.  Reminiscence. — Now,  empirically,  we  have  learned  that 
things  must  be  known  in  succession  and  singly  before  they 
can  be  known  together.2  If  A,  B,  and  C,  for  example,  were 
outer  things  that  came  for  the  first  time  and  affected  our 
senses  all  at  once,  we  should  get  one  content  from  the  lot  of 
them  and  make  no  discriminations.  The  content  would 
symbolically  point  to  the  objects  A,  B,  C,  and  eventually 
terminate  there,  but  would  contain  no  parts  that  were 
immediately  apprehended  as  standing  for  A,  B,  and  C 
severally.  Let  A,  B,  and  C  stand  for  pigments,  or  for 
a  tone  and  its  overtones,  and  you  will  see  what  I  mean 
when  I  say  that  the  first  result  on  consciousness  of  their 
falling  together  on  the  eye  or  ear  would  be  a  single  new 

Steinthal  and  others.  These  authors  see  clearly  that  mere  synchronical  existence  is 
not  combination,  and  attribute  to  the  ideas  dynamic  influences  upon  each  other  ;  pres- 
sures and  resistances  according  to  Herbart,  and  according  to  Steinthal  '  psychic  attrac- 
tions.' But  the  philosophical  foundation  of  such  physical  theories  have  been  so- 
slightly  discussed  by  their  authors  that  it  is  better  to  treat  them  only  as  rhetorical 
metaphors  and  pass  on.  Herbart,  moreover,  must  also  be  mentioned  later,  along  with 
the  animistic  writers. 

1  We  find  this  impotence  already  when  we  seek  the  conditions  of  the  passing  pulse 
of  consciousness,  which,  as  we  saw,  always  involves  time  and  change.     We  account. 
for  the  passing  pulse,  physiologically,  by  the  overlapping  of  dying  and  dawning  brain- 
processes  ;  *iand  at  first  sight  the  elements  time  and  change,  involved  in  both  the  brain- 
processes  and  their  mental  result,  gives  a  similarity  that,  we  feel,  might  be  the  real 
reason  for  the  psycho-physic  coupling.     But  the  moment  we  ask  '  metaphysical '  ques- 
tions— "Why  not  each  brain-process  felt  apart?  —  Why  just  this  amount  of  time, 
neither  more  nor  less?"  etc.,  etc. — we  find  ourselves  falling  back  on  the  empirical 
view  as  the  only  safe  one  to  defend. 

2  The  latest  empirical  contribution  to  this  subject,  with  which  I  am  acquainted,  is 
Dr.    Herbert   Nichols'   excellent  little  monograph,    'Our   Notions   of  Number   and 
Space.'     Boston,  Ginn  &  Co.,  1894. 


kind  of  feeling  rather  than  a  feeling  with  three  kinds  of 
inner  part.  Such  a  result  has  been  ascribed  to  a  '  fusion ' 
of  the  three  feelings  of  A,  B,  and  C;  but  there  seems  no 
ground  for  supposing  that,  under  the  conditions  assumed, 
these  distinct  feelings  have  ever  been  aroused  at  all.  I 
should  call  the  phenomenon  one  of  indiscriminate  knowing 
together,  for  the  most  we  can  say  under  the  circumstances  is 
that  the  content  resembles  somewhat  each  of  the  objects 
A,  B,  and  C,  and  knows  them  each  potentially,  knows  them, 
that  is,  by  possibly  leading  to  each  smoothly  hereafter,  as 
we  know  Indian  tigers  even  whilst  sitting  in  this  room. 

But  if  our  memory  possess  stored-up  images  of  former 
A-s,  B-s,  and  C-s,  experienced  in  isolation,  we  get  an  alto- 
gether different  content,  namely,  one  through  which  we 
know  A,  B,  and  C  together,  and  yet  know  each  of  them  in 
discrimination  through  one  of  the  content's  own  parts. 
This  has  been  called  a  « colligation '  or  Verknupfung  of  the 
'  ideas '  of  A,  B,  and  C,  to  distinguish  it  from  the  afore- 
said fusion.  Whatever  we  may  call  it,  we  see  that  its 
physiological  condition  is  more  complex  than  in  the  pre- 
vious case.  In  both  cases  the  outer  objects,  A,  B,  and 
C,  exert  their  effects  on  the  sensorium.  But  in  this  case 
there  is  a  cooperation  of  higher  tracts  of  memory  which 
in  the  former  case  was  absent.  Discriminative  knowing- 
together^  in  short,  involves  higher  processes  of  reminiscence. 
Do  these  give  the  element  of  manyness,  whilst  the  lower 
sensorial  processes  that  by  themselves  would  result  in  mere 
*  fusion,'  give  the  unity  to  the  experience?  The  sugges- 
tion is  one  that  might  repay  investigation,  although  it  has 
against  it  two  pretty  solid  objections :  first,  that  in  man  the 
consciousness  attached  to  infra-cortical  centres  is  altogether 
subliminal,  if  it  exist ;  and,  second,  that  in  the  cortex  itself 
we  have  not  yet  discriminated  sensorial  from  ideational  pro- 
cesses. Possibly  the  frontal  lobes,  in  which  Wundt  has 
supposed  an  Apperceptionsorgan,  might  serve  a  turn  here. 
In  any  case  it  is  certain  that,  into  our  present  rough  notions 
of  the  cortical  functions,  the  future  will  have  to  weave  dis- 
tinctions at  present  unknown. 

1 1 8  WILLIA  M  JA  MES. 

3.  Synergy. — The  theory  that,  physiologically,  the  one- 
ness  precedes   the    manyness,    may    be    contrasted    with    a 
theory'  that  our   colleagues  Baldwin  and  Miinsterberg  are 
at  present  working  out,  and  which  places  the  condition  of 
union   of  many   data  into  one  datum,   in  the   fact  that  the 
many   pour   themselves   into    one    motor    discharge.       The 
motor  discharge  being  the  last  thing  to  happen,  the  condi- 
tion of  manyness  would  physiologically  here   precede   and 
that  of  oneness  follow.     A  printed  word  is  apprehended  as 
one  object,  at  the  same  time  that  each  letter  in  it  is  appre- 
hended as  one  of  its  parts.     Our  secretary,  Cattell,  long  ago 
discovered  that  we  recognize  words  of  four  or  five  letters 
by  the  eye  as  quickly,  or  even  more  quickly,  than  we  recog- 
nize single  letters.     Recognition  means  here  the  motor  pro- 
cess of  articulation ;   and  the  quickness  comes  from  the  fact 
that  all  the  letters  in  the  particular  combination  unhesita- 
tingly cooperate  in  the  one   articulatory  act.      I   suppose 
such   facts   as  these  to  lie  at  the  base  of  our  colleagues' 
theories,  which  probably  differ  in  detail,  and  which  it  would 
be  manifestly  unjust  to  discuss  or  guess  about  in  advance  of 
their  completer  publication.     Let  me  only  say  that  I  hope 
the  latter  may  not  be  long  delayed. 

These  are  the  only  types  of  physiological  theory  worthy 
of  mention.  I  may  next  pass  to  what,  for  brevity's  sake, 
may  be  called  psychological  accounts  of  the  event  that  lets  an 
object  into  consciousness,  or,  by  not  occurring,  leaves  it 
out.  These  accounts  start  from  the  fact  that  what  figures 
as  part  of  a  larger  object  is  often  perceived  to  have  relations 
to  the  other  parts.  Accordingly  the  event  in  question  is 
described  as  an  act  of  relating  thought.  It  takes  two  forms. 

4.  Relating  to  Self. — Some  authors  say  that  nothing  can 
enter  consciousness  except  on  condition  that  it  be   related 
to  the  self.     Not  object,  but  object-plus-me,  is  the  minimum 

5.  Relating  to  other  Objects. — Others  think  it  enough  if 
the  incoming  object  be  related  to  the  other  objects  already 
there.     To  fail  to  appear  related  is  to  fail  to  be  known  at 
all.     To  appear  related  is  to  appear  with  other  objects.     If 
relations  were  correlates  of  special  cerebral  processes,  the 


addition  of  these  to  the  sensorial  processes  would  be  the 
wished-for  event.  But  brain  physiology  as  yet  knows  noth- 
ing of  such  special  processes,  so  I  have  called  this  explana- 
tion purely  psychological.  There  seem  to  be  fatal  objec- 
tions to  it  as  a  universal  statement,  for  the  reference  to  self, 
if  it  exist,  must  in  a  host  of  cases  be  altogether  subcon- 
scious ;  and  introspection  assures  us  that  in  many  half- wak- 
ing and  half-drunken  states  the  relations  between  things 
that  we  perceive  together  may  be  of  the  dimmest  and  most 
indefinable  kind. 

6.  The  Individual  Soul. — So  we  next  proceed  to  the  ani- 
mistic account.  By  this  term  I  mean  to  cover  every  sort  of 
individualistic  soul-theory.  I  will  say  nothing  of  older 
opinions;  but  in  modern  times  we  have  two  views  of  the 
way  in  which  the  union  of  a  many  by  a  soul  occurs.  For 
Herbart,  for  example,  it  occurs  because  the  soul  itself  is 
unity,  and  all  its  Selbsterhaltungen  are  obliged  to  necessa- 
rily share  this  form.  For  our  colleague  Ladd,  on  the  other 
hand,  to  take  the  best  recent  example,  it  occurs  because 
the  soul,  which  is  a  real  unity  indeed,  furthermore  per- 
forms a  unifying  act  on  the  naturally  separate  data  of  sense 
— an  act,  moreover,  for  which  no  psycho-physical  analo- 
gon  can  be  found.  It  must  be  admitted  that  much  of  the 
reigning  bias  against  the  soul  in  so-called  scientific  circles 
is  an  unintelligent  prejudice,  traceable  far  more  to  a  vague 
impression  that  it  is  a  theological  superstition  than  to 
exact  logical  grounds.  The  soul  is  an  '  entity/  and,  indeed, 
that  worst  sort  of  entity,  a  'scholastic  entity;'  and,  more- 
over, it  is  something  to  be  damned  or  saved  ;  so  let's  have  no 
more  of  it !  I  am  free  to  confess  that  in  my  own  case  the 
antipathy  to  the  Soul  with  which  I  find  myself  burdened  is 
an  ancient  hardness  of  heart  of  which  I  can  frame  no  fully 
satisfactory  account  even  to  myself.  I  passively  agree  that 
if  there  were  Souls  that  we  could  use  as  principles  of  expla- 
nation, the  formal  settlement  of  the  questions  now  before  us 
could  run  far  more  smoothly  towards  its  end.  I  admit  that 
a  soul  is  a  medium  of  union,  and  that  brain-processes  and 
ideas,  be  they  never  so  '  synchronical,'  leave  all  mediating 
agency  out.  Yet,  in  spite  of  these  concessions,  I  never  find 


myself  actively  taking  up  the  soul,  so  to  speak,  and  making 
it  do  work  in  my  psychologizing.  I  speak  of  myself  here 
because  I  am  one  amongst  many,  and  probably  few  of  us  can 
give  adequate  reasons  for  our  dislike.  The  more  honor  to 
our  colleague  from  Yale,  then,  that  he  remains  so  unequivo- 
cally faithful  to  this  unpopular  principle !  And  let  us  hope 
that  his  forthcoming  book  may  sweep  what  is  blind  in  our 
hostility  away.1 

But  all  is  not  blind  in  our  hostility.  When,  for  example, 
you  say  that  A,  B,  and  C,  which  are  distinct  contents  on 
other  occasions,  are  now  on  this  occasion  joined  into  the 
compound  content  ABC  by  a  unifying  act  of  the  soul,  you 
say  little  more  than  that  now  they  are  united,  unless  you 
give  some  hint  as  to  how  the  soul  unites  them.  When,  for 
example,  the  hysteric  women  which  Pierre  Janet  has  studied 
with  such  loving  care,  go  to  pieces  mentally,  and  their  souls 
are  unable  any  longer  to  connect  the  data  of  their  experi- 
ence together,  though  these  data  remain  severally  conscious 
in  dissociation,  what  is  the  condition  on  which  this  inability 
of  the  soul  depends  ?  Is  it  an  impotence  in  the  soul  itself  ? 
or  is  it  an  impotence  in  the  physiological  conditions,  which 
fail  to  stimulate  the  soul  sufficiently  to  its  synthetic  task  ? 
The  how  supposes  on  the  Soul's  part  a  constitution  adequate 
to  the  act.  An  hypothesis,  we  are  told  in  the  logic-books, 
ought  to  propose  a  being  that  has  some  other  constitution 
and  definition  than  that  of  barely  performing  the  phenome- 
non it  is  evoked  to  explain.  When  physicists  propose  the 
'  ether,'  for  example,  they  propose  it  with  a  lot  of  incidental 
properties.  But  the  soul  proposed  to  us  has  no  special 
properties  or  constitution  of  which  we  are  informed.  Nev- 

1 1  ought,  perhaps,  to  apologize  for  not  expunging  from  my  printed  text  these 
references  to  Professor  Ladd,  which  were  based  on  the  impression  left  on  my  mind 
by  the  termination  of  his  Physiological  Psychology.  It  would  now  appear  from  the 
paper  read  by  him  at  the  Princeton  meeting,  and  his  '  Philosophy  of  Mind,'  just  pub- 
lished, that  he  disbelieves  in  the  Soul  of  old-fashioned  ontology ;  and  on  looking 
again  at  the  P.  P.,  I  see  that  I  may  well  have  misinterpreted  his  deeper  mean- 
ing there.  I  incline  to  suspect,  however,  that  he  had  himself  not  fully  disentangled  it 
when  that  work  was  written ;  and  that  between  now  and  then  his  thought  has  been 
evolving  somewhat,  as  Lotze's  did,  between  his  '  Medical  Psychology '  and  his  '  Meta- 
physic.'  It  is  gratifying  to  note  these  converging  tendencies  in  different  philosophers  ; 
but  I  leave  the  text  as  I  read  it  at  Princeton,  as  a  mark  of  what  one  could  say  not  so 
very  unnaturally  at  that  date. 


ertheless,  since  particular  conditions  do  determine  its  activ- 
ity, it  must  have  a  constitution  of  some  sort.  In  either  case, 
we  ought  to  know  the  facts.  But  the  soul-doctrine,  as  hith- 
erto professed,  not  only  doesn't  answer  such  questions,  it 
doesn't  even  ask  them ;  and  it  must  be  radically  rejuvenated 
if  it  expects  to  be  greeted  again  as  a  useful  principle  in  psy- 
chological philosophy.  Here  is  work  for  our  spiritualist 
colleagues,  not  only  for  the  coming  year,  but  for  the  rest  of 
their  lives.1 

7.  The  World-soul. — The  second  spiritualist  theory  may 
be  named  as  that  of  transcendentalism.  I  take  it  typically 
and  not  as  set  forth  by  any  single  author.  Transcendental- 
ism explains  things  by  an  over-soul  of  which  all  separate 
souls,  sensations,  thoughts,  and  data  generally  are  parts.  To 
be,  as  it  would  be  known  together  with  everything  else  in 
the  world  by  this  over-soul,  is  for  transcendentalism  the  true 
condition  of  each  single  thing,  and  to  pass  into  this  condition 
is  for  things  to  fulfill  their  vocation.  Such  being  known 
together,  since  it  is  the  innermost  reality  of  life,  cannot  on 
transcendentalist  principles  be  explained  or  accounted  for 
as  a  work  wrought  on  a  previous  sort  of  reality.  The 
monadic  soul-theory  starts  with  separate  sensational  data, 
and  must  show  how  they  are  made  one.  The  transcen- 
dentalist theory  has  rather  for  its  task  to  show  how, 
being  one,  they  can  spuriously  and  illusorily  be  made  to 
appear  separate.  The  problem  for  the  monadic  soul,  in 
short,  is  that  of  unification,  and  the  problem  for  the  over- 
soul  is  that  of  insulation.  The  removal  of  insulating  obstruc- 

1  The  soul  can  be  taken  in  three  ways  as  a  unifying  principle.  An  already  exist- 
ing lot  of  animated  sensations  (or  other  psychic  data)  may  be  simply  woven  into  one 
by  it ;  in  which  case  the  form  of  unity  is  the  soul's  only  contribution,  and  the  original 
stuff  of  the  Many  remains  in  the  One  as  its  stuff  also.  Or,  secondly,  the  resultant 
synthetic  One  may  be  regarded  as  an  immanent  reaction  of  the  Soul  on  the  preexisting 
psychic  Many  ;  and  in  this  case  the  Soul,  in  addition  to  creating  the  new  form,  repro- 
duces in  itself  the  old  stuff  of  the .  Many,  superseding  it  for  our  use,  and  making 
it  for  us  become  subliminal,  but  not  suppressing  its  existence.  Or,  thirdly,  the  One 
may  again  be  the  Soul's  immanent  reaction  on  a  physiological,  not  on  a  mental,  Many. 
In  this  case  preexisting  sensations  or  ideas  would  not  be  there  at  all,  to  be  either 
woven  together  or  superseded.  The  synthetic  One  would  be  a  primal  psychic  datum 
with  parts,  either  of  which  might  know  the  same  object  that  a  possible  sensation,  real- 
ized under  other  physiological  conditions,  could  also  know. 


tions  would  sufficiently  account  for  things  reverting  to  their 
natural  place  in  the  over-soul  and  being  known  together.. 
The  most  natural  insulating  or  individualizing  principle  to^ 
invoke  is  the  bodily  organism.  As  the  pipes  of  an  organ  let 
the  pressing  mass  of  air  escape  only  in  single  notes,  so  do  our 
brains,  the  organ  pipes  of  the  infinite,  keep  back  everything 
but  the  slender  threads  of  truth  to  which  they  may  be  per- 
vious. As  they  obstruct  more,  the  insulation  increases,  as- 
they  obstruct  less  it  disappears.  Now  transcendental  phi- 
losophers have  as  a  rule  not  done  much  dabbling  in  psychol- 
ogy. But  one  sees  no  abstract  reason  why  they  might  not 
go  into  psychology  as  fully  as  any  one,  and  erect  a  psycho- 
physical  science  of  the  conditions  of  more  separate  and  less- 
separate  cognition  which  would  include  all  the  facts  that 
psycho-physicists  in  general  might  discover.  And  they  would 
have  the  advantage  over  other  psycho-physicists  of  not  need- 
ing to  explain  the  nature  of  the  resultant  knowing-together 
when  it  should  occur,  for  they  could  say  that  they  simply 
begged  it  as  the  ultimate  nature  of  the  world. 

This  is  as  broad  a  disjunction  as  I  can  make  of  the  different 
ways  in  which  men  have  considered  the  conditions  of  our 
knowing  things  together.  You  will  agree  with  me  that  I  have 
brought  no  new  insight  to  the  subject,  and  that  I  have  only 
gossiped  to  while  away  this  unlucky  presidential  hour  to' 
which  the  constellations  doomed  me  at  my  birth.  But  since 
gossip  we  have  had  to  have,  let  me  make  the  hour  more 
gossipy  still  by  saying  a  final  word  about  the  position  taken 
up  in  my  own  Principles  of  Psychology  on  the  general  question 
before  us,  a  position  which,  as  you  doubtless  remember,  was 
so  vigorously  attacked  by  our  colleague  from  the  University 
of  Pennsylvania  at  our  meeting  in  New  York  a  year  ago.1 
That  position  consisted  in  this,  that  I  proposed  to  simply 
eliminate  from  psychology  «  considered  as  a  natural  science  " 
the  whole  business  of  ascertaining  how  we  come  to  know 
things  together  or  to  know  them  at  all.  Such  considera- 
tions, I  said,  should  fall  to  metaphysics.  That  we  do  know 

1  Printed  as  an  article  entitled  '  The  Psychological  Standpoint,'  in  this  REVIEW,. 
Vol.  I,  p.  113.  (March,  1894.) 


things,  sometimes  singly  and  sometimes  together,  is  a  fact. 
That  states  of  consciousness  are  the  vehicle  of  the  knowl- 
edge, and  depend  on  brain  states,  are  two  other  facts.  And 
I  thought  that  a  natural  science  of  psychology  might  legiti- 
mately confine  itself  to  tracing  the  functional  variations  of 
these  three  sorts  of  fact,  and  ascertaining  and  tracing  what 
determinate  bodily  states  are  the  condition  when  the  states 
of  mind  know  determinate  things  and  groups  of  things. 
Most  states  of  mind  can  be  designated  only  by  naming  what 
objects  they  are  *  thoughts-of,'  i.  e.,  what  things  they  know. 
Most  of  those  which  know  compound  things  are  utterly 
unique  and  solitary  mental  entities  demonstrably  different 
from  any  collection  of  simpler  states  to  which  the  same 
objects  might  be  singly  known.1  Treat  them  all  as  unique  in 
entity,  I  said  then ;  let  their  complexity  reside  in  their 
plural  cognitive  function  ;  and  you  have  a  psychology  which, 
if  it  doesn't  ultimately  explain  the  facts,  also  does  not,  in  ex- 

1  When  they  know  conceptually  they  don't  even  remotely  resemble  the  simpler 
states.  When  they  know  intuitively  they  resemble,  sometimes  closely,  sometimes 
distantly,  the  simpler  states.  The  sour  and  sweet  in  lemonade  are  extremely  unlike 
the  sour  and  sweet  of  lemon  juice  and  sugar,  singly  taken,  yet  like  enough  for  us  to 
'  recognize  '  these  '  objects '  in  the  compound  taste.  The  several  objective  '  notes  ' 
recognized  in  the  chord  sound  differently  and  peculiarly  there.  In  a  motley  field  of 
view  successive  and  simultaneous  contrast  give  to  each  several  tint  a  different  hue 
and  luminosity  from  that  of  the  '  real '  color  into  which  it  turns  when  viewed  without 
its  neighbors  by  a  rested  eye.  The  difference  is  sometimes  so  slight,  however,  that 
we  overlook  the  '  representative '  character  of  each  of  the  parts  of  a  complex  content, 
and  speak  as  if  the  latter  were  a  cluster  of  the  original  '  intuitive '  states  of  mind  that, 
occurring  singly,  know  the  '  object's '  several  parts  in  separation.  Prof.  Meinong,  for 
example,  even  after  the  true  state  of  things  had  been  admirably  set  forth  by  Herr  H. 
Cornelius  (in  the  Vierteljahrschrift  f.  wiss.  Phil.,  XVI,  404;  XVII,  30),  returns  to 
the  defence  of  the  radical  associationist  view  (in  the  Zeitschrift  f.  Psychologic,  VI, 
340,  417).  According  to  him,  the  single  sensations  of  the  several  notes  lie  unaltered  in 
the  chord-sensations  ;  but  his  analysis  of  the  phenomenon  is  vitiated  by  his  non- 
recognition  of  the  fact  that  the  same  objects  (i.  e. ,  the  notes)  can  be  known  representa- 
tively through  one  compound  state  of  mind,  and  directly  in  several  simple  ones,  without 
the  simple  and  the  compound  states  having  strictly  anything  in  common  with  each 
other.  In  Meinong's  earlier  work,  Ueber  Begriff  und  Eigenschaften  der  Empfindung 
(Vierteljahrschrift,  vol.  XII),  he  seems  to  me  to  have  hit  the  truth  much  better,  when 
he  says  that  the  aspect  color,  e.  g. ,  in  a  concrete  sensation  of  red,  is  not  an  abstractable 
part  of  the  sensation,  but  an  external  relation  of  resemblance  between  that  sensation 
and  other  sensations  to  the  whole  lot  of  which  we  give  the  name  of  colors.  Such,  I 
should  say,  are  the  aspects  of  c ,  e,  g  and  cf  in  the  chord.  We  may  call  them  parts  of 
the  chord  if  we  like,  but  they  are  not  bits  of  it,  identical  with  c's,  e's,  g's  and  </'s  else- 
where. They  simply  resemble  the  c's,  is,  g's  and  crs  elsewhere,  and  know  these  con- 
tents or  objects  representatively. 


pressing  them,  make  them  self-contradictory  (as  the  associa- 
tionist  psychology  does  when  it  calls  them  many  ideas  fused 
into  one  idea)  or  pretend  to  explain  them  (as  the  soul- 
theory  so  often  does)  by  a  barren  verbal  principle. 

My  intention  was  a  good  one,  and  a  natural  science 
infinitely  more  complete  than  the  psychologies  we  now 
possess  could  be  written  without  abandoning  its  terms. 
Like  all  authors,  I  have,  therefore,  been  surprised  that  this 
child  of  my  genius  should  not  be  more  admired  by  others — 
should,  in  fact,  have  been  generally  either  misunderstood  or 
despised.  But  do  not  fear  that  on  this  occasion  I  am  either 
going  to  defend  or  to  re-explain  the  bantling.  I  am  going  to 
make  things  more  harmonious  by  simply  giving  it  up.  I  have 
become  convinced  since  publishing  that  book  that  no  con- 
ventional restrictions  can  keep  metaphysical  and  so-called 
epistemological  inquiries  out  of  the  psychology  books.  I 
see,  moreover,  better  now  than  then  that  my  proposal  to 
designate  mental  states  merely  by  their  cognitive  function 
leads  to  a  somewhat  strained  way  of  talking  of  dreams  and 
reveries,  and  to  quite  an  unnatural  way  of  talking  of  some 
emotional  states.  I  am  willing,  consequently,  henceforward 
that  mental  contents  should  be  called  complex,  just  as  their 
objects  are,  and  this  even  in  psychology.  Not  because  their 
parts  are  separable,  as  the  parts  of  objects  are;  not  because 
they  have  an  eternal  or  quasi-eternal  individual  existence, 
like  the  parts  of  objects;  for  the  various  '  contents '  of  which 
they  are  parts  are  integers,  existentially,  and  their  parts  only 
live  as  long  as  they  live.  Still,  in  them,  we  can  call  parts, 
parts. — But  when,  without  circumlocution  or  disguise,  I  thus 
come  over  to  your  views,  I  insist  that  those  of  you  who  ap- 
plaud me  (if  any  such  there  be)  should  recognize  the  obliga- 
tions which  the  new  agreement  imposes  on  yourselves.  Not 
till  you  have  dropped  the  old  phrases,  so  absurd  or  so 
empty,  of  ideas  'self-compounding'  or  'united  by  a  spiritual 
principle;'  not  till  you  have  in  your  turn  succeeded  in  some 
such  long  inquiry  into  conditions  as  the  one  I  have  just 
failed  in ;  not  till  you  have  laid  bare  more  of  the  nature  of 
that  altogether  unique  kind  of  complexity  in  unity  which 
mental  states  involve ;  not  till  then,  I  say,  will  psychology 
reach  any  real  benefit  from  the  conciliatory  spirit  of  which 
I  have  done  what  I  can  to  set  an  example. 




The   Relation    between    the  Intensity  of  the   Stimulus  and   its 
Estimated  Intensity. 

Two  stimuli  differing  greatly  in  intensity  were  success- 
ively applied  to  the  hand  of  the  observer,  and  he  was  re- 
quired to  judge  how  much  greater  one  was  than  the  other. 
The  pressure  was  given  by  weights  placed  in  the  pan  of  a 
balance,  and  was  transmitted  to  the  hand  by  a  wooden  rod 
attached  to  the  pan.  The  stimuli  were  2,  10,  50,  250,  1250, 
and  1800  grams.  The  area  of  stimulation  was  that  of  a  cir- 
cle 4  mm.  in  diameter.  The  experiments  made  on  four 
observers  showed  that  on  the  average  10  g.  was  considered 
about  twice  as  heavy  as  2  g. ;  50  g.  twice  as  heavy  as  10  g. ; 
250  g.  three  times  as  heavy  as  50  g. ;  1250  g.  five  times  as 
heavy  as  25Og. ;  and  1800  g.  three  times  as  heavy  as  1250  g. 
It  thus  appears  that  for  low  and  moderate  intensities  the 
estimate  of  intensity  increases  much  more  slowly  than  the 
objective  intensity;  but  as  the  stimulus  approaches  the 
pain  threshold,  the  reverse  appears  to  be  the  case.  Indi- 
viduals differ,  however,  in  their  underestimation  of  low 
intensities,  and  also,  but  to  a  greater  degree,  in  their  over- 
estimation  of  high  intensities. 

The  Discrimination  of  Weights  of  Different  Intensities. 

Cylindrical  boxes  filled  with  shot  served  as  stimuli.  The 
method  used  was  that  of  right  and  wrong  cases ;  that  is,  the 
stimuli  were  placed  successively  upon  the  hand,  and  the  ob- 

1 A  full  account  and  discussion  of  these  experiments  will  be  found  in  the  writer's 
dissertation,  On  Sensations  from  Pressure  and  Impact.  Supplement  Monograph 
(No.  i)  to  this  REVIEW. 



server  was  asked  to  decide  which  was  heavier.     The  accu- 
racy of  discrimination  is  measured  by  the  probable  error,  or 
that  increment  which  the  observer  perceives  correctly  75  # 
of  the  time.1     Thus  the  greater  the  probable  error  the  less 
the  accuracy   of  discrimination.      The  stimuli   varied  from 
100  to  3200  g.,  no  more  than  four  intensities  being  used  for 
any  one  observer.     The   results  of  9040  experiments  made 
on  5  observers  showed  that  the  probable  error  for  pressure 
stimuli  tends  to  increase  in  proportion  to  the  intensity  of 
the  stimulus  within  the  approximate  limits  300-3000  g.     For 
low   intensities    the    probable    error   increases   much    more 
slowly  than  the  stimulus.     For  5-7  g.  the  probable  error 
for  a  good  observer  was  \  of  the  stimulus.     For  high  inten- 
sities also  there  seems  to  be  a  similar  tendency,  but  it  is  not 
so  marked.     As  illustrative  of  our  results,  we  give  the  prob- 
able errors  in  grams  for  McW. :  for  100  g.,  19;   for  500  g., 
36;  for  1500  g.,  112;  for  3200  g.,  193.     The  average  value 
of  the  probable  error  for  all  stimuli  (100  g.  and  above)  and 
all  observers  was  approximately  ^  of  the  stimulus.     That 
is  we  can,    on  the   average,    judge    correctly    whether  one 
stimulus  is  heavier  or  lighter  than  another  75^  of  the  time 
when  the  stimuli  are  in  the  ratio  9:  10. 

In  these  experiments  the  constant  error,  or  tendency  to 
overestimate  the  second  stimulus,  was  found  to  be  for  some 
persons  very  great,  running  as  high  as  J  of  the  stimulus. 
The  constant  error  is  more  variable  than  the  probable  error ; 
the  expression  *  constant  error '  is  thus  quite  misleading. 
The  constant  error  seems  to  be  greater  for  observers  having 
a  large  probable  error.  A  great  constant  error  for  pressure 
is  not  necessarily  accompanied  by  a  similar  overestimation 
for  lifted  weights. 

The  degree  of  confidence  was  studied  by  having  the  ob- 
servers say  a,  b,  c  and  d,  according  as  they  were  certain, 
quite  confident,  less  confident,  or  doubtful.  Individuals 
differ  greatly  in  their  confidence,  the  percentage  of  wrong 
judgments  of  which  observers  were  confident  varying  from 
2#  to  33 %.  The  probability  of  correctness  when  confident 

1  This  quantity  has  been  considered  to  be  equivalent  to  the  least  noticeable  differ- 
ence. It  is  doubtful,  however,,  ifi  such,  a  relation  can  be  justified. 


•was  for  most  observers  about  .8  to  .9.  There  appears  to  be 
no  relation  between  these  quantities  and  the  accuracy  of  dis- 
crimination. The  percentage  of  correct  guesses  varied  from 
52 #  to  70$,  the  average  being  59$. 

The  Place  of  Stimulation9. 

The  accuracy  of  discrimination  for  weights  of  100  g.  or 
.more  is  not  for  two  observers  appreciably  different  for  the 
ipalm  of  the  hand,  the  back  of  the  hand,  and  the  volar  sur- 
face of  the  third  phalanx  of  the  index  finger.  For  5—7  g.  it 
was  found  at  first  to  be  much  less  for  the  back  of  the  hand 
.and  wrist  than  for  the  index  finger  of  one  observer,  but 
to  increase  greatly  by  practice.  Stimuli  of  low  intensity,  5 
and  ioog.,  when  placed  on  the  forearm,  tended  to  be  judged 
lighter  than  when  placed  on  the  finger.  This  result  was 
obtained  by  placing  a  weight  first  on  the  finger  and  then  on 
Ihe  arm,  increments  being  added  until  the  weights  seemed 

The  writer  tested  the  sensitiveness  to  pain  at  different 
•parts  of  the  body  by  the  algometer.1  It  was  found  that  the 
sensitiveness  is  greatest  where  the  skin  is  thin  and  not  sepa- 
rated from  the  bone  by  other  tissues.  Among  the  most  sen- 
sitive parts  are  the  upper  regions  of  the  head,  whereas  the 
palm  of  the  hand,  the  thigh  and  the  heel  are  among  the  least 
sensitive  parts. 

Sensations  from  Impact. 

The  tactile  threshold  for  pressure  stimuli  without  move- 
ment was  found  by  observing  the  angular  elevation  of  a 
bristle  which  was  attached  at  one  end  to  a  wooden  handle, 
;and  at  the  other  could  transmit  pressure  to  the  skin.  In 
this  way  it  was  found  that  .4  g.  is  about  as  easily  perceived 
when  movement  is  thus  excluded,  as  is  .01  g.,  when  the 
-stimulus  is  placed  carefully  upon  the  hand.  The  difference 
in  the  results  is  due  to  the  sensory  effect  of  movement. 

By  dropping  weights  upon  the  hand,  the  heights  were 
.found  at  which  different  weights  caused  pain.  The  weights 
were  25,  100,  200  and  300  g.  The  area  of  stimulation  was 

1  An  instrument  by  which  pressure  could  be  exerted  up  to  15  k. 


constant,  a  circle  about  i  cm.  in  diameter.  The  results  of 
60  measurements  showed  that  the  product  of  the  mass  and 
height  pain-thresholds  is  fairly  constant.  As  the  height 
through  which  a  body  falls  is  proportional  to  the  square  of 
the  velocity,  the  pain  threshold  and  therefore  the  intensity 
of  pain,  depend  as  much  upon  the  square  of  the  velocity  as 
upon  the  mass  of  a  striking  object. 

By  the  method  of  right  and  wrong  cases  we  studied  the- 
accuracy  of  discrimination  for  impact  stimuli.  The  results 
of  800  experiments  showed  that  a  weight  of  50  g.,  falling" 
through  17.5  cm.,  is  judged  about  as  well  as  looog.  without 
movement.  The  average  probable  error  for  pressure  only 
was  -^  of  the  stimulus  for  S.  F.,  and  -fa  for  L.  F.  For  im- 
pact the  corresponding  values  were  ^  and  T^-. 

In  900  experiments,  carried  on  in  the  same  way,  the 
weight  was  kept  constant  and  the  observer  required  to  esti- 
mate differences  in  the  intensity  of  the  blow  due  to  differ- 
ences in  height  and  therefore  velocity.  The  results  were 
compared  with  those  based  upon  the  same  number  of  experi- 
ments on  the  same  observers,  in  which  the  height  was 
constant  and  the  weight  variable.  We  found  that,  on  the 
whole,  differences  in  weight  are  judged  less  accurately  than* 
differences  in  velocity,  but  more  accurately  than  differences 
in  the  square  of  the  velocity.  But  great  individual  varia- 
tions occur. 

Experiments  were  also  made  on  the  intensive  effect  of 
the  weight  as  compared  to  that  of  the  velocity.  A  100  g. 
weight  having  fallen  upon  the  hand  from  a  height  of  5  cm., 
the  height  was  found  at  which  25  g.  would  cause  a  sensation 
of  the  same  intensity.  Here  also  observers  differed  greatly. 
The  average  height  for  5  observers  was  38  cm.,  the  maxi- 
mum being  58,  the  minimum  20  cm.  Hence  the  mass  has  in 
general  greater  intensive  effect  than  the  height  or  the  square 
of  the  velocity.  Otherwise  the  average  height  found  would 
be  about  20  cm.  On  the  other  hand,  the  mass  has  less  effect 
than  the  velocity  or  square  root  of  the  height. 

The  Area  of  Stimulation. 

In  the  experiments  on  Weber's  law  two  areas  were  used, 
8  sq.  cm.  and  .12  sq.  cm.  approximately.  It  was  found  that 


on  the  whole  this  difference  of  area  did  not  affect  the  accu- 
racy of  discrimination  for  weights.  Individual  variations, 
however,  were  very  marked. 

If  stimuli  of  the  same  weight,  but  different  areas,  be 
placed  successively  upon  the  hand,  the  stimulus  applied  on 
the  smaller  area  will  be  overestimated.  By  applying  the 
method  of  right  and  wrong  cases  we  measured  this  overesti- 
mation.  The  results  of  400  experiments  on  one  observer 
gave  an  overestimation  of  J  of  the  stimulus  at  200  g.  Ex- 
periments by  a  different  application  of  the  method  of  right 
and  wrong  cases  on  5  observers  gave  about  the  same  result, 
except  that  one  observer  showed  a  tendency  to  underesti- 
mate, rather  than  overestimate,  the  stimulus  applied  to  the 
smaller  area.  By  a  third  method,  however,  we  found  a 
decided  overestimation  for  only  2  out  of  5  observers.  From 
these  experiments  on  10  observers,  we  conclude  that  this 
tendency  is  by  no  means  universal. 

The  effect  of  alterations  in  the  intensity  of  pressure  on 
the  accuracy  of  discrimination  of  areas  was  investigated  by 
the  method  of  right  and  wrong  cases,  differences  in  area 
being  judged  instead  of  differences  in  intensity.  The  stand- 
ard areas  used  were  i  and  8  sq.  cm.  and  the  intensities 
200  and  800  grams.  The  results  of  1900  experiments  on  3 
observers  showed  that  the  accuracy  of  discrimination  for 
areas  was,  on  the  average,  about  J  greater  for  200  g.  than 
for  800  g. 

By  placing  thin  circular  cards  upon  the  hand  and  apply- 
ing pressure  upon  these,  we  studied  the  effect  of  variations 
in  the  area  on  the  so-called  tactile  threshold.  The  areas 
were  approximately  i  mm.,  10  mm.  and  90  mm.  The  aver- 
ages of  the  corresponding  threshold  values,  based  upon  60 
experiments,  were  for  F.,  .2  g.,  .9  g.  and  1.9  g. ;  and  for  the 
writer,  .5  g.,  1.4  g.  and  1.6  g.  Thus  the  smaller  the  area 
the  greater  the  probability  that  stimuli  of  low  intensity  will 
be  perceived. 

In  a  .similar  manner  the  relation  of  the  pain  threshold 
to  the  area  of  stimulation  was  investigated.  The  average 
values  of  the  pain  threshold,  based  upon  80  experiments  on 
two  observers,  were:  for  10  mm.,  1.4  kilog. ;  for  30  mm., 


2.8  kilog. ;  for  90  mm.,  4.4  kilog. ;  and  for  270  mm.,  6.6 
kilog.  Thus  the  pain  threshold  increases  with  the  area; 
but,  like  the  tactile  threshold,  much  more  slowly  than  in 
direct  proportion. 

The  Time  of  Stimulation. 

The  sensory  effect  of  pressure  stimuli  of  low  intensity 
was  found  to  depend  upon  the  rate  at  which  the  pressure 
was  increased.  The  instrument  used  was  that  referred  to  in 
the  experiments  already  described  on  the  tactile  threshold. 
By  this  pressure  was  exerted  upon  the  palm  of  the  observer's 
hand  up  to  .4  g.,  at  different  rates  of  increase.  These  rates 
were  approximately  .05  g.,  .3  g.  and  2  g.  per  second.  The 
corresponding  percentages  of  times  the  stimulus  was  per- 
ceived in  300  experiments  on  2  observers  were  6^,  32^,  and 
82^.  Thus  the  greater  the  rate  of  increase  the  greater  the 
probability  of  perception. 

The  time  in  which  dermal  stimuli  of  different  intensities 
cause  pain  was  found  in  the  following  manner.  Different 
weights  were  placed  in  a  balance  pan  so  as  to  press  upon 
the  palm  of  the  hand,  and  the  time  was  noted  which  elapsed 
before  the  appearance  of  pain.  The  pressure  was  commu- 
nicated from  the  pan  to  the  hand  by  a  wooden  rod  fastened 
to  the  pan.  The  diameter  of  the  base  was  1.5  mm.  The 
averages  in  seconds,  based  upon  80  experiments  on  2  ob- 
servers, are  as  follows:  for  100  g.,  230  sec. ;  for  200  g.,  35 
sec. ;  for  300  g.,  10  sec. ;  for  500  g.,  4.5  sec.  It  is  evident, 
therefore,  that  the  time  as  well  as  the  area  and  intensity  of 
stimulation  determine  the  sensory  effect.  There  is,  how- 
ever, an  intensive  limit,  below  which  pressure  stimuli  never 
become  painful.  This  is  probably  from  25  to  50  g.  for  the 
area  used. 


Ever  since  Aristotle  described  in  his  De  Somniis1  the 
appearance  of  an  after-image,  the  phenomena  have  attracted 

1  This  seems  not  to  be  generally  known  by  German  writers.  Aubert  and  Helm- 
Holtz  both  credit  Peiresc  as  being  the  first  to  mention  after-images. 


attention.  St.  Augustine  mentions  them,  and  in  modern 
times  such  prominent  men  as  Buffon,  Goethe  and  Newton 
have  described  their  appearance.  But  very  little  was  ac- 
complished beyond  the  making  of  theories  until  this  century, 
when  Plateau,  Seguin,  Fechner  and  others  studied  the  color 
changes.  Up  to  the  present  time  practically  nothing  has 
been  accomplished  in  the  way  of  exact  measurement. 

The  present  paper  gives  the  results  of  an  attempt  to 
measure  the  smallest  amount  of  light  which  will  produce  an 
after-image.  For  this  purpose  three  physical  units  had  to  be 
considered — the  intensity  of  the  light,  its  area,  and  the  time  of 
stimulation.  The  apparatus  used  was  planned  and  formerly 
used  by  Prof.  Cattell,  but  was  adapted  by  the  writer.  It  is 
represented  in  the  accompanying  cut. 


S  is  an  upright  iron  screen  pierced  by  a  hole  (H)  through 
which  the  light  from  the  hooded  lamp  (L)  may  pass  to  the 
observer  on  the  other  side  of  the  screen.  P  is  a  seconds 
pendulum.  To  this  is  attached  a  piece  of  sheet  iron  which 
covers  the  hole  when  the  pendulum  is  held  up  by  the  electro- 
magnet (M).  The  key  (K)  which  makes  and  breaks  the  cur- 
rent to  the  magnet  (M)  is  managed  by  the  experimenter,  and 


the  pendulum  is  held  up  or  let  swing  at  his  pleasure.  By 
breaking  and  making  the  current  the  pendulum  swings,  per- 
mits the  light  to  be  seen  by  the  observer  for  exactly  one 
second,  and  is  caught  up  again  by  the  magnet.  The  lamp  is 
moved  along  the  arm  (A),  increasing  or  decreasing  the 
intensity  of  the  light.  The  opening  (H)  was  covered  with 
ground  glass,  yfoj-  candle  power  was  found  a  convenient 
intensity,  this  being  increased  by  moving  the  lamp  nearer 
the  observer,  and  decreased  by  moving  it  away  from  the 
observer.  The  lamp  was  used  at  the  distances  J,  ^-,  i,  2 
and  4  meters,  and  so  far  as  the  intensity  decreases  inversely 
as  the  square  of  the  distance,  the  respective  intensities  would 
be  A»  A»  T*TF>  TTO  and  nnnr  candle  power.  The  absorbing 
power  of  the  ground  glass  was  found  to  be  $o°/ct  whence 
the  intensities  were  decreased  by  half — making  the  series — 
A»  T>V>  *fop  imp  romp  c-  P-  In  the  experiments  on  inten- 
sity, the  time  of  exposure  (one  second)  and  the  area  (64 
sq.  mm.)  were  kept  constant.  For  the  experiments  on  area, 
the  lamp  was  placed  at  a  distance  of  J  m.,  thus  making  the 
intensity  fa  c.  p.,  the  time  (one  second)  being  the  other 
constant.  The  area  was  changed  by  using  different  pieces 
of  ground  glass  on  which  black  paper  blocked  off  all  but  the 
small  area  required.  The  areas  used  were  64,  16,  4,  i,  J,  -fa 
sq.  mm.  When  time  was  the  changeable  unit,  the  area  (64 
sq.  mm.)  and  the  intensity  (fa  c.  p.)  were  the  constants.  The 
series  consisted  of  four  times,  y^^rp  yfop  tV  and  l  second- 
The  shorter  times  were  obtained  by  means  of  drop  screens, 
made  of  pasteboard  and  weighted.  As  they  did  not  fall  in 
grooves  there  was  no  appreciable  friction,  and  hence  the 
real  time  practically  corresponded  with  the  theoretical  time. 
The  screen  was  on  the  side  of  the  apparatus  near  the 
observer,  and  therefore  is  not  shown  in  the  cut.  The  time 
one  second  was  given  by  the  pendulum.  As  will  be  noticed, 
there  was  a  common  unit  in  the  three  series,  i.  e.,  when  the 
experiments  were  made  with  i  sec.,  64  sq.  mm.  and  fa  c.  p. 
The  experiments  were  conducted  in  a  dark  room,  and  all 
observations  were  made  with  the  eyes  open,  so  as  not  to 
disturb  the  after-image.  A  cloth  curtain  was  hung  across 
the  room,  shutting  off  from  the  observer  everything  but  the 


small  opening  in  the  screen.  The  observer's  eyes  were  30 
cm.  from  the  opening,  his  head  being  steadied  by  a  support. 
Before  any  experiments  were  made  a  rest  of  ten  minutes 
was  taken  to  allow  the  observer's  eyes  to  become  accustomed 
to  the  darkness;  between  the  disappearance  of  one  after- 
image and  the  next  stimulus  there  was  a  rest  of  thirty 
seconds.  When  the  thirty  seconds  had  elapsed  a  signal  was 
given,  five  seconds  were  allowed  for  preparation,  and  the 
stimulus  was  produced. 

Very  few  difficulties  presented  themselves,  and  of  these 
the  only  one  not  overcome  was  the  lack  of  a  fixation  point, 
as  any  fixation  point  was  apt  to  produce  a  disturbing  after- 
image. By  practice,  however,  the  observer  learned  to  look 
in  a  certain  way  for  the  stimulus,  and  in  the  case  of  the 
writer  not  over  five  per  cent,  of  the  time  were  the  eyes 
consciously  focussed  after  any  part  of  the  light  was  seen. 
The  kerosene  lamp  used  was  trimmed  at  the  beginning  of 
the  experiments.  By  photometric  determinations  always 
made  before  a  sitting  and  generally  during  and  after  the 
sitting,  it  was  found  that  the  light  varied  very  little  or  not 
at  all. 

Four  observers  were  tested,  C.,  McW.  and  S.  respec- 
tively with  time,  area  and  intensity.  All  were  advanced 
students  in  psychology,  and  S.  had  had  previous  experience 
with  after-images.  F.,  the  writer,  was  the  fourth  observer, 
the  three  series  being  made  upon  him. 

The  results  of  nearly  3,000  experiments  are  given  in  the 
following  tables.  In  the  first  line  the  percentage  of  times 
an  after-image  was  seen  is  given,  and  in  the  second  line  the 
average  variation  of  the  sets  of  ten  trials ;  100  experiments 
of  each  sort  were  made,  excepting  in  those  cases  in  which  a 
different  number  is  given  in  parenthesis. 

Some  preliminary  experiments  on  area  made  on  the  writer 
bear  out  in  general  the  results  in  the  corresponding  series. 
These  experiments  were  made  with  an  intensity  of  -fa  c.  p., 
so  that  they  could  not  be  combined  with  the  others.  The 
other  constant  was  an  exposure  of  one  second.  The  same 
areas  were  used  except  that  the  ^  sq.  mm.  was  omitted. 
Seventy  experiments  were  made  on  each  area.  The  results, 
with  the  average  variations,  are  shown  in  the  accompanying 



Intensity  in 
candle  power. 






(  Percentage, 






S.   \ 

(  Variation, 

—  (80) 


25        (no) 

20.8  (no) 


(  Per  cent., 






F-  1 

(  Var., 



1  9.  5  (130) 

1  3-  5  to0) 



Area  in 
square  mm. 







(  Per  cent., 
McW.  J 


—  (so) 








(  Percent., 







F.   \ 

(  Var., 








Time  in  seconds. 





(  Per  cent, 
C.    ] 

(  Var., 








(  Per  cent., 

F.    ] 





8.  3  (xao) 




Area  in  sq.  mm. 






(  Per  cent., 






F.  ] 







The  results  of  the  first  three  tables  are  represented  graph- 
ically by  the  accompanying  curves. 


ft      *  * 

The  abscissa  denotes  respectively  divisions  of  time,  area 
and  intensity,  the  ordinate  the  percentage  of  times  an  after- 
image appeared.  The  curves  are  not  carried  out  to  repre- 
sent the  greatest  intensity,  the  greatest  area  and  the  greatest 
time.  Each  curve  is  the  average  of  the  two  observers  in 
that  series,  the  close  agreement  of  the  observers  making  this 
method  permissible.  The  figures  on  the  abscissa  represent 
the  proportion  of  that  stimulus  to  the  greatest  stimulus, 
taking  respectively  time,  area  and  intensity  as  the  variables. 

If  we  regard  the  threshold  as  that  intensity,  time  or  area, 
which  produces  an  after-image  75^  of  the  number  of 
stimuli,  we  conclude 

(i).  That  with  an  exposure  of  one  second  and  an  intensity 
of  ^  c.  p.,  the  threshold  is  4  sq.  mm. 

(2).  That  with  the  area  64  sq.  mm.  and  the  intensity  -fc 
c.  p.,  the  threshold  is  y^j-  second. 


(3).  That  with  the  area  64  sq.  mm.  and  the  time  of  ex- 
posure one  second,  the  threshold  is  yj^  candle 
power  (approximately),  or  between  -^ and  ^-g-c.  p. 

If  we  substitute  in  our  definition  25^,  or  50^,  or  90^,  for 
the  75  #,  we  but  change  the  figures  to  suit  the  case. 

It  is  worth  noting  that  of  the  1,500  cases  when  after- 
images were  seen,  but  five  were  negative,  a  proof  of  the 
theory  that  the  negative  a  ter-image  is  due  to  exhaustion  of 
the  eyes,  the  low  intensities,  the  small  areas  and  the  short 
times  not  being  sufficient  to  tire  or  exhaust  the  eyes.  These 
five  negative  images  were  all  seen  toward  the  close  of  a 
sitting,  when  the  eyes  had  been  used  for  forty  or  fifty  experi- 
ments, and  all  were  with  the  greatest  intensity,  the  longest 
time  and  the  largest  area. 

With  the  results  obtained  we  are  able  to  make  a  further 
comparison — a  correlation  of  our  physical  units  in  terms  of 
the  production  of  after-images — a  purely  psychological  prob- 
lem. How  much  time  equals  how  much  intensity  or  area? 
A  glance  at  the  curves  and  percentages  shows  that  equal 
increments  in  area,  intensity  and  time  do  not  give  equal  re- 
sults. If  we  represent  our  constants  by  the  letters  c,  c'  and 
c"  respectively  for  intensity,  time  and  area,  and  let  i,  t  and  a 
represent  respectively  -^  c.  p.,  y^  sec.  and  ^  sq.  mm., 
from  the  table  of  percentages  we  get  the  following  approxi- 
mate equations. — 

i  c  =  t  c'  =  a  c" 
(2ic)  =  (i.7tc')  =  (4ac") 
4  i  c  =  3.2  t  c'  =  16  a  c" 
8  i  c  =  10  t  c'  =  64  a  c" 
16  i  c  =  100  t  c'  =  256  a  c" 

The  8  i  c  and  the  3.2  t  c'  represent  yfo-  c.  p.  and  T^  sec. 
(approximately).  These  figures  and  the  second  equation  in 
brackets  are  supplied  from  the  curves.  The  relations,  then, 
may  be  stated  as  follows:  "Squaring  the  time  equals 
doubling  the  intensity  or  quadrupling  the  area,"  and  vice 
versa,  "reducing  the  area  to  one-fourth  equals  halving  the 
intensity  and  taking  the  square  root  of  the  time."  Whether 
this  be  a  chance  relation  or  a  general  one  throughout  the 
phenomena  of  after-images  cannot  be  dogmatically  stated 
now.  The  writer  has  in  view  the  further  study  of  this  problem. 



When  the  fact  that  the  retina  contains  a  substance  which 
is  chemically  acted  upon  by  light  was  first  announced,  it 
seemed  that  the  secret  of  the  transformation  of  energy  of 
wave-motion  into  something  capable  of  being  transmitted 
along  the  nerve  fibres  and  affecting  the  conscious  organism 
as  the  sensation  of  light  had  been  definitely,  at  least  in  its 
rough  stages,  unravelled.  But  immediately  difficulties  ap- 
peared :  the  substance  could  not  be  detected  in  the  cones, 
and  it  was  therefore  apparently  wanting  in  the  fovea,  the 
spot  of  most  acute  vision ;  and,  moreover,  certain  classes  of 
animals  had  retinas  which  contained  none  of  the  substance. 
It  was  therefore  certain  that  the  visual  purple  was  not  essen- 
tial to  vision,  and  the  intense  interest  which  it  had  at  first 
aroused  fell  wholly  into  abeyance. 

Prof.  Ebbinghaus  has  recently  returned  to  the  subject, 
and  has  proposed  to  account  for  the  apparent  colorlessness 
of  the  cones  by  assuming  in  them  a  second  substance  of 
such  a  color  as  always  to  mark  the  presence  of  the  visual 
purple.  The  visual  purple  (or  visual  blue,  as  it  must  be 
considered  for  this  purpose,  although  its  real  color  is  only  a 
very  slightly  bluish-red)  and  its  product,  the  visual  yellow, 
are  the  source  of  the  sensations  of  yellowj[and  blue  respect- 
ively ;  the  imaginary  substance  is,  in  its  two  stages,  the 
source  of  the  sensations  red  and  green,  and  is  for  that  pur- 
pose first  green  and  then  red  in  color.  Now,  a  green  and  a 
purple  substance,  when  present  together,  might,  it  is  true, 
produce  a  colorless  mixture,  since  purple  and  green  are 
complementary  colors;  but  a  moment  later  these  two  sub- 
stances have  become  respectively  yellow  and  red.  What 



becomes  of  the  complementariness  then? — or  when  one  is 
green  and  the  other  yellow? — or  when  one  is  red  and  the 
other  purple?  Or  must  we  suppose  that,  although  thou- 
sands of  eyes  have  been  examined,  first  and  last,  after  every 
possible  degree  of  exposure  to  light,  and  to  color,  still 
chance  has  brought  it  about  that  no  stage  of  this  series  of 
processes  has  ever  been  lighted  upon  except  the  first  ?  So 
short-sighted  a  theory  as  this, — one  in  which  we  must  so 
carefully  refrain  from  going  beyond  the  first  step  of  the  im- 
agined process, — has  probably  never  before  been  seriously 
proposed  for  acceptance. 

But  the  suggestion  of  Prof.  Ebbinghaus  has  had  this, 
good  effect,  that  it  has  induced  Prof.  Konig  to  undertake 
an  accurate  determination  of  the  relative  absorption  of  the 
visual  purple  for  different  kinds  of  homogeneous  light.1  He 
proposed  the  question  as  a  subject  of  investigation  to  Dr. 
Abelsdorff  and  Frl.  Kottgen.  A  spectro-photometer  espe- 
cially designed  for  the  purpose  was  constructed,  and  it  was 
hoped  that  the  skill  and  experience  gained  in  the  study  of 
the  visual  purple  of  the  frog  they  might,  in  course  of  time, 
be  able  to  apply  to  a  human  retina,  if  good  luck  should 
throw  one  in  their  way.  But,  as  it  happened,  the  apparatus 
was  no  sooner  set  up  in  one  of  the  dark  rooms  of  the  labora- 
tory than  they  received  word  that  a  human  retina  was  to  be 
at  their  disposal ;  and  Dr.  Abelsdorff  being  suddenly  called 
away,  the  study  of  it  was  carried  out  by  Prof.  Konig  and 
Frl.  Kottgen.  The  patient  to  whom  the  eye  belonged  re- 
mained in  absolute  darkness  for  twenty  hours  before  the 
operation.  The  eye  was  extracted  by  the  light  of  a  sodium 
flame,  put  at  once  into  an  intensely  black  box,  and  rapidly 
conveyed  to  Prof.  Konig's  laboratory.  Here  it  was  opened, 
twenty  minutes  after  leaving  the  living  body,  with  all  the 
necessary  precautions,  by  an  oculist  who  had  already  made 
himself  familiar,  by  means  of  the  ophthalmoscope,  with  the 
exact  position  of  the  melano-sarcoma  which  had  caused  the 
eye  to  be  extracted.  The  entire  retina,  with  the  exception 

1  Ueber  den  menschlichen  Sehpurpur  und  seine  Bedeutung  fur  das  Sehen.  Nacb 
gemeinschaftlich  mit  Frl.  Else  Kottgen  ausgefUhrten  Versuchen.  Sitzungsber.  <L 
Akad.  d.  Wissensch.  zu  Berlin,  21  Juni,  1894. 


of  the  diseased  portion,  was  put  into  a  solution  of  gallic  acid, 
and  after  nitration  a  sufficient  amount  of  the  extract  was 
obtained  to  fill  twice  the  minute  absorption-box  of  the  spec- 
trophotometer.  With  the  first  filling  the  absorption  of  the 
visual  purple  was  obtained  and  compared  with  the  absorp- 
tion of  the  (not  absolutely  clear)  solution  which  remained 
after  the  purple  (crimson)  color  had  been  wholly  bleached 
out;  the  second  filling  sufficed  for  a  redetermination  of  the 
absorption  of  the  visual  purple,  and  for  that  of  the  visual 
yellow,  which  was  obtained  after  the  purple  had  been 
bleached  for  that  color.  (The  two  determinations  of  the 
absorption  of  the  purple  substance  are  in  close  agreement 
with  each  other.) 

It  was  at  once  evident  that  the  absorption  distribution  in 
the  spectrum  of  the  purple  substance  coincided  roughly 
with  the  spectral  distribution  of  brightness  for  the  congen- 
itally  totally  color-blind,  and  also  with  the  spectral  distribu- 
tion of  brightness  for  the  normal  eye  (as  well  as  for  the  par- 
tially color-blind)  at  a  very  faint  degree  of  luminosity.  The 
suggestion  was  a  natural  one  that  it  is  the  vision  of  the 
totally  color-blind,  and  of  the  normal  eye  in  a  faint  light, 
which  is  dependent  upon  the  absorption  of  light  by  the 
visual  purple.  The  curves  of  sensation  in  these  two  cases 
were  reduced  to  a  spectrum  of  equal  distribution  of  energy 
by  means  of  Prof.  Langley's  determination  of  the  distribu- 
tion of  energy  throughout  the  spectrum.  Correction  was 
also  made  for  the  absorption  of  the  macula  lutea  and  for  that 
of  the  crystalline  lens  (freshly  determined  for  an  individual 
of  the  proper  age).  It  then  became  evident  that  the  coinci- 
dence between  the  three  curves  is  remarkably  close.  (That 
the  two  curves  of  sensation  referred  to  are  in  close  agree- 
ment with  each  other  had,  of  course,  already  been  shown  by 
Hering.)  It  was  evident,  that  is,  that  the  absorption  in  the 
purple  substance  is  very  exactly  proportional  to  the  value  of 
light  as  an  exciter  of  sensation  (i)  in  the  totally  color-blind, 
and  (2)  in  all  other  eyes  at  an  intensity  so  faint  that  colors 
are  no  longer  visible.  Prof.  Konig  had  also  convinced  him- 
self of  the  existence  of  a  similar  coincidence  between  the 
absorption  of  the  visual  yellow  and  the  blue  constituent  of 


the  colors  of  the  spectrum  as  already  determined  by  himself 
and  Dieterici  (Zeitsch.  f.  Psych,  u.  Phys.  der  Sinnesorgane, 
IV.,  S.  241). 

But  the  difficulty  still  remained  which  had  originally 
caused  the  visual  purple  to  fall  into  neglect, — the  substance 
is  apparently  wanting  in  the  cones,  and  therefore  in  the 
fovea.  To  meet  this  difficulty  two  assumptions  were  possi- 
ble :  either,  that  the  cones  do  contain  the  purple  substance, 
but  in  so  decomposable  a  form  that  it  can  never  be  detected 
objectively,  no  matter  what  the  precaution  used  in  extract- 
ing the  eye ;  or,  that  the  eye  is  actually  blind  in  the  fovea  in 
the  two  cases  in  question.  In  favor  of  the  first  assumption 
was  the  fact  that,  if  the  yellow  substance  is  really  the  source 
of  the  sensation  of  blue,  then  it  must  be  supposed  to  exist  in 
a  less  decomposable  state  in  the  periphery  of  the  eye  to 
account  for  the  fact  that  we  are  then  nearly  blind  to  blue;1 
it  therefore  '  lies  near'  to  assume  (when  some  assumption  is 
absolutely  necessary)  that  it  exists  in  a  much  more  decom- 
posable state  in  the  fovea,  and  that  it  has  for  this  reason 
hitherto  escaped  detection.  But  I  was  most  anxious  to  put 
the  second  of  these  assumptions  to  the  test, — the  more  so  as 
I  had  already  made  the  prediction  that  the  cause  of  total 
color-blindness  is  a  defective  development  of  the  cones;2 
and  also  that  the  function  of  the  visual  purple  is  to  render 
possible  that  form  of  vision  which  does  not  exist  until  after 
a  delay  of  twenty  minutes  or  so  in  a  dark  room  ;3  both  pre- 
dictions being  naturally  suggested  by  my  theory  of  light- 
sensation.  I  had  also  pointed  out,  in  the  last-mentioned 
paper,  that  the  visual  purple  cannot  exist  in  the  cones,  even 
in  a  bleached-out  state,  because  the  visual  purple  is  fluores- 
cent, and  the  more  so  the  more  it  is  bleached  out,  while  the 

1  Gad,  in  his  criticism  of  the  papers  of  Konig  and  Zumft,  about  to  be  mentioned, 
implies  (p.  499)  that  Prof.  Konig  found  the  blue-blindness  of  the  fovea  forced  upon 
him  by  his  hypothesis  regarding  the  function  of  the  visual  purple  and  of  the  visual  yel- 
low. That  was  not  the  case  ;  Prof.  Konig  had  adopted  the  first  of  the  two  assump- 
tions here  affirmed  to  be  possible,  and  it  was  only  some  six  weeks  later  that  the  defect- 
ive vision  of  the  fovea  was  discovered. 

1  Zeitsch.  f.  Psych,  u.  Phys.  der  Sinnesorgane.     Bd.  IV.  s.  9. 

8  Professor  Ebbinghaus*  Theory  of  Colour  Vision.  MlND,  N.  S.  Vol.  Ill,  p. 


fovea  remains  as  a  dark  spot  in  the  ultra-violet  rays  of  the 
spectrum ;  and  the  more  strikingly  dark  the  more  the  rods 
in  the  neighborhood  have  become  fluorescent  (p.  100).  On 
the  other  hand,  Prof.  Konig  pointed  out  to  me  that  even  if 
vision  should  be  wholly  wanting  in  the  fovea  of  a  totally 
color-blind  individual,  it  would  hardly  be  possible  to  detect 
it,  for  he  would  unquestionably  have  acquired  the  habit  by 
avoiding  the  use  of  this  spot.  This  suggestion  was,  there- 
fore, not  immediately  carried  out.  But  it  was  arranged 
that  I  should  take  for  the  subject  of  my  investigation  for  the 
summer  a  re-determination  of  the  threshold  of  sensation  for 
different  parts  of  the  retina  and  for  different  kinds  of  mono- 
chromatic light.  A  plan  of  work  was  built  up  in  two  of  the 
dark  rooms  of  the  laboratory,  and  I  have  to  express  my 
gratitude  to  Prof.  Konig  for  his  untiring  patience  in  assist- 
ing me  to  overcome  the  difficulties  which  one  after  another 
presented  themselves.1  The  preliminary  observations  for 
eliminating  the  sources  of  error  consumed  some  time,  and  I 
then  made  a  first  determination  of  the  variation  in  the  inten- 
sity of  light  necessary  in  order  to  be  just  perceptible,  or  of 
its  inversion — the  sensitiveness  of  the  eye  to  faint  impres- 
sions— at  different  distances  from  the  fovea.  I  even  drew 
the  curves,  and  found  them  to  present  a  maximum  at  a  dis- 
tance of  about  25°,  at  which  point  the  sensitiveness  of  the 
eye  is  about  four  times  as  great  as  at  the  fovea,  while  at  a 
distance  of  50°  the  sensitiveness  is  still  about  twice  as  great  as 
at  the  fovea.  E.  Pick  found  the  maximum  to  be  at  about  15°, 
but  that  was  without  making  correction  for  the  diminished 
area  of  the  pupil  of  the  eye  when  light  enters  it  very  much 
from  the  side.  The  shape  of  the  curves  is  not  noticeably 
different  for  different  parts  of  the  spectrum.  These  curves 
are  a  representation  of  the  diminished  sensitiveness  in  the 
region  of  the  fovea,  which  has  long  been  known,  and  which 
has  been  especially  forced  upon  the  attention  of  astronomers 
when  looking  for  faint  stars  with  the  naked  eye.  I  had  been 
in  the  end  for  several  weeks  at  work  in  my  dark  room  for 
the  express  purpose  of  finding  that  the  fovea  is  blind  to  im- 
pressions so  faint  as  those  with  which  I  was  occupied,  before 

1  The  full  results  of  this  investigation  will  be  published  later. 


I  found  it;  although,  after  it  has  once  been  seen,  it  seems 
incredible  that  it  can  ever  have  been  overlooked.  It  finally 
dawned  upon  me — not  that  the  bright  point  directly  looked 
at  was  invisible — but  that  by  giving  what  I  can  only  describe 
as  a  certain  curious  twist  to  the  eye,  a  certain  bright  point 
could  be  caused  to  disappear.1 

The  reason  that  the  «  normal  night-blindness  of  the 
fovea,'  as  this  insensitiveness  to  the  faint-light  sensation 
may  best  be  called,  has  been  completely  overlooked  by  all 
other  observers,  and  also  by  E.  Pick  and  by  Kirschmann,  I 
who  have  made  a  special  investigation  of  the  threshold  of 
sensation  for  different  parts  of  the  retina,  is  very  plain :  the 
unconscious  ego,  which  takes  so  large  a  part  in  regulating 
the  action  of  even  the  voluntary  muscles,  is  well  aware  of 
this  blindness,  and  takes  pains  that  an  image  of  a  small 
object  shall  almost  never  fall  upon  this  spot.  In  a  faint 
light,  to  look  at,  which  is  usually  a  phrase  of  two-fold  signifi- 
cance, meaning,  namely,  to  turn  the  eye  in  such  a  way  that 
its  power  of  seeing  is  a  maximum ;  and  also  to  turn  the  eye 
so  that  the  image  of  the  object  looked  at  falls  on  the  fovea, 
has  now  the  two  elements  of  its  significance  disjoined ; 
when  vision  is  at  a  maximum  (or  when  it  is  possible  at  all), 
it  is  necessary  that  the  image  should  fall  a  little  to  one  side 
of  the  fovea,  and  that  is  the  motion  with  which  the  subject- 
ive feeling  of  fixation  is  associated.  Not  only  did  the  faint 
object  which  I  was  engaged  in  observing  disappear,  but  also 
the  two  (much  brighter)  spots  of  phosphorescent  paste 
(which  are  used  in  order  to  secure  a  fixation-point  halfway 
between  them)  could  be  made  to  completely  vanish  by 
1  looking  at '  them,  in  the  new  sense  of  that  phrase.  This 
phosphorescent  matter  gives  a  spectrum  which  is  almost 
wholly  blue. 

Having  convinced  myself  of  the  existence  of  this  faint- 
light  foveal  blindness,  it  was  necessary  to  devise  a  method 
by  which  the  total  blindness  of  the  fovea  of  the  totally  color- 

1  This  motion  of  the  eye  can  be  facilitated  if  one  brings  in  the  aid  of  a  strong 
desire  not  to  see  the  point.  This  would  seem  to  show  that  the  knowledge  of  the  exist- 
ence of  this  blind  spot,  while  almost  wholly  below  the  level  of  consciousness,  is  yet  not 
altogether  withdrawn  from  an  interaction  with  the  conscious  content  of  the  organism. 


blind  patient,  who  was  soon  to  return  to  Prof.  Konig's  labor- 
atory,   could    be   demonstrated.      It  was  not  permitted  to 
subject  his  eyes  to  any  strain,  and  it  was  not  probable  that  a 
rather  feeble  boy  of  thirteen  could  easily  learn  to  execute  a 
motion  which  had  hitherto  been  absolutely  avoided,  not  only 
by  him  but  by  all  the  rest  of  the  world;   and  which,  besides, 
there  was  no  possibility  of  describing  to  him.     But  it  natu- 
rally suggested  itself  to  me  very  soon  that  it  would  only  be 
necessary  to  give  him  a  group  of  closely  contiguous  isolated 
bright  points  to  look  at,  and  that  chance  would  see  to  it  that 
one  or  the  other  of  them  should  now  and  then  fall  into  the 
dark  hole  of  his  fovea.     The  same  device  has  proved  effect- 
ive for  exhibiting  the  faint-light  blindness  to  a  person  who 
has  not  yet  learned  to  execute  the  motion  of  the  eye  neces- 
sary to  cause  a  single   spot  to  disappear.      Prof.  Konig  at 
once  made  use  of  this  method  to  show  that  even  the  most 
intense  blue  that  could  be  thrown  into  the  field  of   his  spec- 
tro-photometer,  by  the  light  of  the  oxyhydrogen  blow-pipe, 
is  insufficient  to  cause  any  sensation  whatever  in  the  fovea. 
No  difficulty    was   experienced    in  demonstrating  the   total 
blindness  of  the  totally  color-blind  boy  in  this  spot,  although 
it  was  quite  impossible  to  get  him  to  experience  the  invisi- 
bility of  a  single  bright  point  when  only  one  was  in  the 
field.     This  individual  had  a  definite  spot  at  one  side  of  the 
fovea,  which  he  constantly  made  use  of  as  a  fixation-spot; 
the  nystagmus,  which  is  a  common  accompaniment  of  total 
color-blindness,    is   readily   explained   as   the   expression    of 
there   being  no   such   favored   substitution  fovea.     The  re- 
markable diminution    of  visual  acuity    on  the  part  of  such 
patients,  which  has  not  hitherto  been  understood,  is  seen  to 
be  very  natural  when  it  is  known  that  their  fovea  is  not  in  a 
condition  to  perform  its  function.      Prof.  Konig  proceeded 
at  once  to  make  a  series  of  color-equations  in  the  fovea — a 
work  of  extreme  difficulty — from  which  it  appears  that  the 
condition,  which  extends  over  an  area  of  from  55'  to  70',  is 
that  of  a  typical  blue-blindness. 

To  the  facts  already  described,  Prof.  Konig  adds  a  con- 
tribution recently  made  by  himself  and  Dr.  Zumft,1  by  which 

1  Ueber  die  lichtempfindliche  Schicht  in  der  Netzhaut  des  Menschlichen  Auges. 
Sitzungsberichte  d.  Akad.  d.  Wissench.  zu  Berlin,  24  Mai,  1894. 


they  would  seem  to  have  shown  that  light  of  different  colors 
is  perceived  in  different  layers  of  the  retina,  and  blue  dis- 
tinctly in  front  of  green,  yellow  and  red.  The  method  con- 
sists in  throwing  two  shadows  of  a  blood-vessel  upon  the 
back  of  the  retina,  by  means  of  two  holes  in  a  card,  which  is- 
constantly  moved  to  and  fro  in  the  front  focal  plane  of  the 
eye.  The  distance  apart  of  the  two  shadows  they  were  able 
to  measure,  and  they  found  it  to  be  different  for  differently 
colored  homogeneous  light;  and  the  calculated  distance  of 
the  blood-vessel  from  the  layer  of  retina  which  is  affected  by 
the  light,  they  found  to  be,  for  several  portions  of  the  spec- 
trum examined: 

X  670 O-44  mm. 

59° °-44 

535 0-41 

486 0.38 

434 0.36 

White, 0.41 

Prof.  Konig  interprets  this  to  mean  that  the  space  be- 
tween the  layer  in  which  blue  is  perceived,  and  that  in 
which  red  is  perceived,  is  greater  than  the  thickness  of  the 
end  members  of  the  rods  and  cones,  and  hence  that  one 
must  infer  that  the  pigment  epithelium  also  is  a  layer  sensi- 
tive to  light.  It  would  seem,  however,  that  there  must  be 
something  about  these  experiments  the  meaning  of  which  is 
not  yet  wholly  cleared  up,  for  the  length  of  the  outer  mem- 
ber of  a  rod  is  only  .025  to  .03  mm.,  and  that  of  an  epithe- 
lium cell  is  only  about  half  as  much  again.  They  do  not, 
therefore,  together  form  a  layer  of  sufficient  thickness  to 
take  in  the  difference  of  .08  mm.,  which  the  observations  re- 
quire. The  experiment,  therefore,  proves  too  much.  Again, 
Prof.  Konig's  interpretation  of  the  facts  here  enumerated,  as 
meaning  that  the  visual  yellow  is  the  source  of  the  sensation 
of  blue ;  that  green,  yellow  and  red  are  all  perceived  in  the 
pigment-epithelium,  and  that  the  cones  are  merely  lenses  for 
concentrating  light  upon  the  epithelium  cells,  makes  no  pro- 
vision for  the  nerve-conduction  of  any  effect  of  light  in  the 
epithelium.  In  the  fovea  there  would  be  absolutely  no- 
means  of  such  conduction  except  by  way  of  the  cones,  and 


it  is  difficult  to  conceive  that  organs  which  are  performing 
the  part  of  lenses  should  also  be  able  to  function  as  con- 
ductors.1 Again,  the  recent  brilliant  work  of  Ramon  y 
Cayal  and  others  on  the  minute  anatomy  of  the  retina  dis- 
closes such  close  similarity  (together  with  a  perfectly  defin- 
ite difference)  between  the  rods  and  the  cones,  as  regards 
structure  and  connections,  as  to  make  it  very  unnatural  to 
assign  to  them  functions  of  a  widely  different  nature.  Prof. 
Konig  says  (p.  4)  that  the  results  here  communicated 
"are  in  contradiction  (i)  with  the  theories  of  Hering  and 
Ebbinghaus,  according  to  which  a  single  substance  forms 
the  basis  of  the  red  and  green  sensations  on  the  one  hand, 
and  of  the  blue  and  yellow  sensations  on  the  other  hand ; 
and  (2)  with  the  theories  of  Bonders,  Wundt  and  Franklin, 
according  to  which  all  colors  are  perceived  in  a  single  sub- 
stance." It  is  true  that  all  these  theories  would  be  rather 
hard  hit  by  these  results,  if  the  results  themselves  were  not 
involved  in  some  obscurity.  As  it  is,  however,  it  may  per- 
haps be  safe  to  wait  until  the  discrepancies  pointed  out  have 
been,  to  some  extent  at  least,  cleared  up. 

There  is  yet  one  more  recent  contribution  from  Konig's 
laboratory  which  has  an  important  bearing  upon  the  new 
facts  already  mentioned.  Brodhun,  and  more  recently 
Tonn,  have  shown  that  the  Purkinje  phenomenon  consists  in 
a  change  in  the  blue  constituent  of  white  light — the  red  and 
green  remaining  unchanged ;  this  would  seem  to  indicate 
that  the  increased  amount  of  coloring  matter  in  the  rods,  as 
the  intensity  of  light  begins  to  diminish,  furnishes  a  means 
for  an  increased  amount  of  absorption,  and  would  seem  to 
point,  it  must  be  confessed,  to  the  rods  as  the  seat,  at  least 
in  part,  of  the  sensation  of  blue. 

Farther  elements  of  the  theory  of  light-sensation  now 
advocated  by  Prof.  Konig  are  these : 

1  Prof.  Gad  (whose  paper  has  reached  me  since  writing  the  above)  makes  the  far- 
ther criticism  that  only  the  first  surface  of  the  pigment-cells  would  be  available,  because 
light  cannot  pass  through  even  a  very  thin  layer  of  the  fuscine  which  gives  them  their 
dark  color.  But  he  apparently  forgets  that,  under  an  ordinary  degree  of  illumination, 'the 
pigment  grains  are  nearly  all  heaped  up  between  the  visual  elements,  and  that  the  body 
of  the  pigment  cell  is  left  almost  free  from  them.  (Der  Energieumsatz  in  der  Retina. 
Separat-Abzug  aus  Arch.  f.  Anat.  u.  Phys.,  1894.) 


1.  The  visual    purple    is   the    photo-chemical    substance 
whose  decomposition  causes  the  faint  light  sensation.     That 
sensation  is  in  reality  blue,  although  we  are  not  aware  of  it. 

2.  The  visual  yellow  is  the  source  of  the  sensation  of  blue 
at  ordinary  intensities. 

3.  The  white,  and  also  all  shades  of  grey,  of  an  ordinary 
illumination,  are  of  a  very  different  origin  from  (a)  the  sensa- 
tion of  grey  in  a  faint   light,  (b)  the  sensation  of  the  totally 
color-blind,  (c)  the  sensation  of  the  normal  eye  in  the  pe- 
riphery ;    they    are   (as    in    the    original    Young-Helmholtz 
theory)  a  synthesis  in   'judgment'  of  the    sensations    red, 
green  and  blue. 

As  regards  Prof.  Konig's  interpretation  of  the  new  facts, 
the  following  observations  remain  to  be  made  : 

(a).  There  is  no  occasion  for  assuming  that  the  visual 
purple  is,  by  its  decomposition,  the  source  of  the  sensation. 
All  that  is  forced  upon  us  is  that  absorption  by  the  visual 
purple  acts  as  a  means  of  re-inforcement  at  a  time  when  light 
would  be  too  feeble  to  perform  its  function  without  the  pres- 
ence of  a  special  agent  for  absorbing  it.  That  the  visual 
purple  and  the  visual  yellow  should,  by  their  decomposition, 
furnish  the  same  sensation  (blue)  is  very  hard  to  believe,  in 
view  of  the  fact  that  the  visual  yellow  is,  beyond  all  ques- 
tion, itself  one  of  the  decomposition  products  of  the  visual 
purple,  and  that  their  decomposition  products  can  therefore 
not  possibly  be  the  same. 

(b).  Becker's  case  of  congenital  monocular  total  color- 
blindness, many  cases  of  acquired  monocular  total  color- 
blindness, and  the  consciousness  of  every  individual  in  a 
faint  light,  all  speak  against  the  hypothesis  that  blue,  and 
not  grey,  is  perceived  under  those  circumstances;  still 
more,  the  perfect  conviction  which  one  has  that  a  bit  of 
colored  paper  whose  image  is  removed  to  the  periphery  of 
the  eye  fades  into  a  grey  which  is  indistinguishable  from  the 
grey  of  direct  vision. 

(c).  There  is  no  doubt  whatever  that  the  eye  has  a  per- 
fectly unimpaired  vision  for  the  whole  length  of  the  spectrum 
when  the  light  is  so  strong  that  the  rod-yellow  has  been 
completely  bleached  out.  That  can,  therefore,  not  be  the 


photo-chemical  substance  for  blue.  The  eyes  of  the  totally 
color-blind  undergo  adaptation.1  The  rod-purple  in  their 
eyes,  therefore,  suffers  changes  in  its  quantity  exactly  as  we 
should  expect  it  to  do  from  what  we  know  of  the  substance 
elsewhere.  There  is,  therefore,  every  reason  to  believe  that 
it  is,  like  all  rod-purple  which  we  have  ever  examined  objec- 
tively, completely  bleached  out  in  a  bright  light,  and  hence 
that  it  is  not  the  sensation-producing  substance,  but  merely 
a  means  of  re-inforcement  for  waning  light. 

(d).  The  fact  that  the  adaptation-substance  is  purple  in 
color  serves  a  useful  purpose.  The  most  common  faint 
light  of  nature  is  the  faint  light  of  dense  forests,  which  is 
green.  The  rod-pigment  is  therefore  especially  adapted  to 
the  absorption  of  the  only  light  which  penetrates  them. 
How  completely  the  light  at  the  bottom  of  forest  trees  has 
been  sifted  of  the  light  which  their  leaves  absorb  has  been 
shown  quite  recently  by  an  investigation  into  the  growth  (or 
rather  non-growth)  of  nearly  all  ground  plants  after  the 
foliage  has  fully  come  out  in  the  late  spring.2 

(e).  Almost  the  only  function  of  the  extreme  peri- 
phery of  the  eye  is  the  detection  of  motion, — that  is,  the 
detection  of  changes  in  the  distribution  of  light  and  shade. 
The  changes  in  the  rod-pigment  bring  about  a  constant 
complete  adaptation  to  the  existing  pattern  of  light  and 
shade, — build  up  a  counter-pattern,  so  to  speak,  upon  the 
surface  of  the  retina, — and  only  a  new  distribution  of  light 
(*'.  e.,  the  entrance  of  an  enemy  upon  the  field)  causes  any 
sensation.  This  function  of  the  periphery  is  facilitated  by 
the  fact,  made  out  by  Ramon  y  Cayal,  that  there  are  numer- 
ous large,  horizontal  connecting  cells  which  must  play  the 
part  of  re-inforcing  a  sensation  by  spreading  it  over  a  wide 
area,  at  the  same  time  that  they  diminish  the  sharpness  of  its 
localization ;  the  indistinctness  of  vision  in  the  periphery  has 

1  Just  before  leaving  Berlin  in  September  I  made  a  journey  to  the  place  where  the 
color-blind  boy  above  referred  to  was  spending  the  summer,  in  order  to  determine  this 
point.  Hering  mentions  that  his  case  could  see  better  in  a  dark  room  than  those 
having  normal  eyes,  but  he  does  not  say  whether  his  vision  improved  with  time. 
(  Untersuc hung  eines  total  Farbenblinden.  Pfl.  Arch.  Bd.  54  S.  10.) 

* Klebs  :  Einfluss  des  Lichtes  auf  die  Fortpftanzung  der  Gewachse.  Biol.  Cen- 
tralbl.  XIII,  641. 


long  been  known  to  be  much  greater  than  the  indistinctness 
of  the  image  formed  there  would  account  for. 

(/).  If  the  rod-pigment,  in  both  of  its  stages,  is  merely  a 
reinforcement  agent,  then  all  theories  of  light-sensation  (ex- 
cept, indeed,  that  of  Ebbinghaus,  which  loses  whatever 
plausibleness  it  may  be  supposed  to  have  had)  may  be  con- 
sidered to  remain  very  much  in  the  same  condition  in  which 
they  were  before. 




The  third  annual  meeting  of  the  American  Psychological 
Association  was  held  at  Princeton  College,  Princeton,  N.  J., 
on  Dec.  27  and  28,  1894.  Prof.  William  James,  President 
of  the  Association,  presided  over  the  sessions,  which  lasted 
from  10.30  A.  M.  on  Dec.  27  to  4.30  P.  M.  on  Dec.  28.  Presi- 
dent Patton,  of  Princeton  College,  made  an  address  of  wel- 
come on  Thursday  afternoon,  and  entertained  the  members 
of  the  Association  in  the  evening,  after  the  address  of  the 
President  of  the  Association.  Abstracts  of  the  papers  read 
at  the  meeting  are  subjoined.  Papers  by  Prof.  Starr  and 
Prof.  Hume  were  presented  in  the  absence  of  their  authors, 
and  papers  offered  by  Prof.  Jastrow,  Prof.  Delabarre,  Prof. 
Titchener,  Mr.  Pierce  and  Dr.  Witmer  were  not  read. 

The  members  in  attendance  were :  Alexander,  Baldwin, 
Cattell,  Chrysostom,  Farrand,  Hyslop,  Franklin,  James, 
Ladd,  MacDonald,  Marshall,  Mead,  Mezes,  Mills,  Miller, 
Newbold,  Ormond,  Pace,  Royce,  Sanford,  Strong,  Warren 
— twenty-two  in  all.  In  addition,  the  sessions  were  well 
attended  by  professors  and  advanced  students  from  the  dif- 
ferent universities  and  colleges. 

The  following  nominations  for  membership  were  made 
by  the  council,  and  the  elections  were  made  by  the  Associa- 

Prof.  Archibald  Alexander,       New  York. 

Dr.  John  Bigham,  University  of  Michigan. 

Prof.  Charles  L.  Dana,  Bellevue  Medical  College. 



Mr.  E.  A.  Kirkpatrick, 
Dr.  A.  Kirschmann, 
Prof.  S.  E.  Mezes, 
Mr.  W.  T.  Shaw, 
Prof.  James  Seth, 
Prof.  Paul  Shorey, 
Prof.  H.  M.  Stanley, 
Miss  M.  Washburn, 

Winona,  Minn. 
University  of  Toronto. 
University  of  Texas. 
Wesleyan  University. 
Brown  University. 
University  of  Chicago. 
Lake  Forest  University. 
Wells  College. 

A  constitution  was  adopted,  as  follows : 


ART.  I.  Object. — The  object  of  the  Association  is  the 
advancement  of  Psychology  as  a  science.  Those  are  eligi- 
ble for  membership  who  are  engaged  in  this  work. 

ART.  II.  The  Council. — A  Council  shall  be  elected  from 
the  members  of  the  Association  as  an  executive.  The  Coun- 
cil shall  consist  of  six  members,  two  being  elected  annually 
for  a  term  of  three  years.  The  President  shall  be  ex-officia 
a  member  of  the  Council.  The  Council  shall  nominate  officers 
for  the  Association,  shall  nominate  new  members,  and  shall 
make  other  recommendations  concerning  the  conduct  of 
the  Association.  The  resolutions  of  the  Council  shall  be 
brought  before  the  Association  and  decided  by  a  majority 

ART.  III.  Officers. — There  shall  be  annually  nominated 
by  the  Council  and  elected  by  the  Association  a  President, 
a  Secretary,  and  a  Treasurer,  who  shall  perform  the  usual 
duties  of  these  officers. 

ART.  IV.  Annual  Subscription. — The  annual  subscription 
shall  be  $3,  in  advance.  Non-payment  of  dues  for  two  con- 
secutive years  shall  be  considered  as  equivalent  to  resigna- 
tion from  the  Association. 

ART.  V.  Executive  Committee. — The  President,  the  Sec- 
retary, and  a  member  from  the  place  where  the  meeting  is 
held,  shall  be  a  committee  to  make  necessary  arrangements 
for  the  annual  meeting. 

TREA  S  URER'  S  RE  FOR  T.  I  5  I 

ART.  VI.  Proceedings. — Such  proceedings  shall  be  printed 
by  the  Secretary  as  the  Association  may  direct. 

ART.  VII.  Amendments. — Amendments  to  the  Constitu- 
tion must  be  adopted  by  a  majority  vote  at  two  consecutive 
annual  meetings. 

As  prescribed  by  the  Constitution,  a  Council  was  elected 
as  follows : 

Term  expiring  1897: 

Prof.  G.  T.  Ladd,  Yale  University. 

Prof.  J.  McKeen  Cattell,  Columbia  College. 

Term  expiring  1896: 

Prof.  J.  Mark  Baldwin,  Princeton  College. 
Prof.  William  James,  Harvard  University. 

Term  expiring  1895  : 

Prof.  John  Dewey,  University  of  Chicago. 

Prof.  G.  S.  Fullerton,  University  of  Pennsylvania. 

Prof.  J.  McKeen  Cattell  was  elected  President  and  Prof. 
E.  C.  Sanford  Secretary  and  Treasurer  for  the  coming  year. 

An  invitation  was  received  from  the  American  Society  of 
Naturalists,  inviting  the  Association  to  affiliate  with  it.  The 
question  was  referred  to  the  Council,  with  power  to  act. 
Invitations  were  received  for  the  meeting  of  1895  from 
Harvard  University  and  the  University  of  Chicago.  The 
decision  as  to  place  of  meeting  was  left  with  the  Council, 
with  the  recommendation  that  the  convention  meet,  if  possi- 
ble, at  the  same  time  and  place  as  the  Society  of  Naturalists. 
It  was  resolved  that  the  minutes  should  be  printed  in  such 
journals  as  were  prepared  to  print  them  in  full. 

The  report  of  the  Treasurer  is  as  follows : 
Receipts : 

Balance  on  hand, $69.50 

2  dues,  1893, 6.00 

38  dues,  1894, 114.00 

Sales  of  Proceedings,    .     .     ...     •         ^o 



Expenditures : 

Printing  Proceedings  for  1893,  as  per 

Messrs.  Macmillan  &  Co.'s  voucher, 

Postage,  expressage  and  stationery,    . 


Balance  on  hand, $127.17 

The  account  was  audited  by  the  Council  and  approved. 


Secretary,  1894.. 


(i.)   The  Knowing  of  Things  Together.     Address  by  the  Presi- 
dent, Prof.  WILLIAM  JAMES,  Harvard  University. 

The  synthetic  unity  of  consciousness  is  one  of  the  great 
dividing  questions  in  the  philosophy  of  mind.  We  know 
things  singly  through  as  many  distinct  mental  states.  But 
on  another  occasion  we  may  know  the  same  things  together 
through  one  state.  The  problem  is  as  to  the  relation  of  the 
previous  many  states  to  the  later  one  state.  It  will  not  do 
to  make  the  mere  statement  of  this  problem  incidentally  in- 
volve a  particular  solution,  as  we  should  if  we  formulated 
the  fact  to  be  explained  as  the  combination  of  many  states  of 
mind  into  one.  The  fact  presents  itself,  in  the  first  instance, 
as  the  knowing  of  many  things  together,  and  it  is  in  those  terms 
that  the  solution  must  be  approached. 

In  the  first  place,  what  is  knowing?  I.  Conceptual  know- 
ing is  an  external  relation  between  a  state  of  mind  and 
remote  objects.  If  the  state  of  mind,  through  a  context  of 
associates  which  the  world  supplies,  leads  to  the  objects 
smoothly  and  terminates  there,  we  say  it  knows  them.  2. 
Intuitive  knowing  is  the  identity  of  what,  taken  in  one  world- 
context,  we  call  mental  content  and  in  another  object.  In 
neither  i  nor  2  is  there  involved  any  mysterious  self-trans- 
cendency or  presence  in  absence.  3.  This  mystery  does, 
however,  seem  involved  in  the  relation  between  the  parts  of  a 
mental  content  itself.  In  the  minimum  real  state  of  conscious- 
ness, that  of  the  passing  moment,  past  and  present  are  known 

A  BS  TRA  CTS  OF  PA  PERS.  I  5  3 

at  once.  In  desire,  memory,  etc.,  earlier  and  later  elements 
are  directly  felt  to  call  for  or  fulfil  each  other,  and  without 
this  sense  of  mutuality  in  their  parts,  such  states  do  not 
exist.  Here  is  presence  in  absence ;  here  knowing  together ; 
here  the  original  prototype  of  what  we  mean  by  knowledge. 
This  ultimate  synthetic  nature  of  the  smallest  real  phenom- 
enon of  consciousness  can  neither  be  explained  nor  circum- 

We  can  only  trace  the  particular  conditions  by  which 
particular  contents  come  thus  to  figure  with  all  their  parts 
at  once  in  consciousness.  Several  attempts  were  then  briefly 
passed  in  review.  Mere  synchronical  sense-impression  is 
not  a  sufficient  condition.  An  additional  inner  event  is  re- 
quired. The  event  has  been  described :  physiologically  as  i) 
'attention;'  as  2)  ideational  processes  added  to  the  sensorial 
processes,  the  latter  giving  unity,  the  former  manyness ;  as 
3)  motor  synergy  of  processes ;  psychologically  as  4)  the 
thinking  of  relations  between  the  parts  of  the  content-object; 
as  5)  the  relating  of  each  part  to  the  self ;  spiritually  as  6)  an 
act  of  the  soul;  transcendentally  as  7)  the  diminution  (by 
unknown  causes,  possibly  physiological)  of  the  obstruction 
or  limitation  which  the  organism  imposes  on  the  natural 
knowing-of-all-things-together  by  an  Absolute  Mind.  For 
transcendentalism  the  problem  is,  *  How  are  things  known 
separately  at  all  ? ' 

The  speaker  dealt  with  these  opinions  critically,  not 
espousing  either  one  himself.  He  concluded  by  abandoning 
the  attempt  made  in  his  Principles  of  Psychology  to  formu- 
late mental  states  as  integers,  and  to  refer  all  plurality  to  the 
objects  known  by  them.  Practically,  the  metaphysical  view 
cannot  be  excluded  from  psychology-books.  '  Contents'  have 
parts,  because  in  intuitive  knowledge  contents  and  objects 
are  identical;  and  Psychology,  even  as  a  'natural  science,' 
will  find  it  easier  to  solve  her  problem  of  tracing  the  condi- 
tions that  determine  what  objects  shall  be  known  together, 
by  speaking  of  '  contents  '  as  complex  unities. 

[The  address  is  printed  in  full  in  the  Psychological  Review 
for  March,  1895.] 


(2.)  Minor  Studies,  and  Notes  on  New  Apparatus.  By  Dr. 
E.  C.  SANFORD,  Clark  University. 

The  four  papers  reported  were  on  the  following  topics : 
(i)  Comparative  Observations  on  the  Indirect  Color  Range 
of  Children,  Adults,  and  Adults  Trained  in  Color,  by  Geo.. 
W.  A.  Luckey.  (This  study  was  made  in  the  Psychological 
Laboratory  of  the  Leland  Stanford,  Jr.,  University);  (2)  A 
Study  of  Individual  Psychology,  by  Miss  Caroline  Miles; 
(3)  The  Memory-span  and  Attention,  by  Dr.  Arthur  H. 
Daniels;  (4)  On  the  Least  Observable  Interval  between 
Stimuli  addressed  to  Disparate  Senses  and  to  Different  Or- 
gans of  the  same  Sense,  by  Miss  Alice  J.  Hamlin ;  (5)  Notes. 
on  the  Binocular  Stroboscope,  a  Model  of  the  Hemispheri- 
cal Field  of  Regard,  and  Diagrams  for  an  Optical  Illusion, 
by  E.  C.  Sanford.  [All  of  these  papers  are  published  in 
full  in  the  American  Journal  of  Psychology,  Vol.  VI.,  No.  4, 
Jan.,  1895.] 

(3.)  The  Psychic  Development  of  Young  Animals  and  its  Physi- 
cal Correlation.  By  T.  WESLEY  MILLS,  Professor  of 
Physiology  in  McGill  University,  Montreal. 

As  the  comparative  method,  embryology  and  the  doc- 
trine of  organic  evolution  have  revolutionized  biology,  it 
must  be  expected  that  they  or  their  analogies  will  at  least 
greatly  modify  modern  psychology.  To  learn  how  and  when 
psychic  processes  originate  is  a  long  step  towards  understand- 
ing them ;  and  as  these  processes  in  animals  lower  in  the 
scale  than  man  are  presumably  simple,  it  is  desirable  that 
they  be  studied  both  in  the  mature  animal  and  in  the  young 
developing  one.  Accordingly  the  writer  has  for  some  years 
been  engaged  in  this  task,  and  has  now  made  fairly  complete 
researches  on  the  psychic  development  of  the  dog,  cat,  rab- 
bit, guinea-pig,  etc. 

An  attempt  has  been  made  to  keep  a  record  in  the  form 
of  a  diary,  not  only  of  psychic,  but  of  contemporaneous  phy- 
sical changes.  A  special  series  of  experiments  has  been 
made  on  the  brains  of  young  animals,  with  a  view  of  deter- 
mining when  cortical  localization  is  established,  in  what 
order,  etc.  This  work  is  not  yet  complete.  Incidentally, 

ABSTRA  C TS  OF  PA PEKS.  I  5  5 

the  subject  of  localization  in  the  mature  animal  has  been  in- 
vestigated, and  some  generally  accepted  conclusions  found 
unreliable,  as  well  as  others  confirmed. 

(4.)  On  the  Distribution  of  Exceptional  Ability.      By  Professor 
J.  McKEEN  CATTELL,  Columbia  College. 

A  study  of  the  mental  traits  and  of  the  works  of  great 
men  forms  an  interesting  chapter  in  psychology  ;  and  while 
we  are  undertaking  to  make  psychology  an  exact  science,  it 
is  an  advantage  to  secure  quantitative  results.  When  anec- 
dotes are  published  telling  us  that  certain  great  men  have 
inherited  or  bequeathed  their  talents,  were  insane,  immoral,, 
precocious,  versatile  or  the  like,  it  is  of  interest;  but  we 
sometimes  imagine  that  other  examples  might  be  quoted 
with  opposite  results,  or  similar  traits  found  in  ordinary 

We  need  to  be  able  to  affirm  that  a  man,  who  has  accom- 
plished work  making  him  eminent,  is  more  likely  to  be  in- 
sane (according  to  a  proper  definition  of  insanity)  than  the 
average  man,  in  a  given  ratio ;  and  that  this  ratio  varies  in 
such  and  such  a  way  for  men  whose  work  or  character  was 
of  a  given  definable  sort.  And  so  in  all  cases  quantitative 
results  should  be  secured.  We  should  be  able  to  say  that  a 
man  who  is  a  great  painter  is  just  so  much  more  likely  to  be 
a  great  poet  as  well,  than  is  a  great  soldier,  or  than,  is  the 
average  man. 

The  first  requirement  for  such  a  study  is  a  list  of  great 
men  secured  by  an  objective  method.  The  1000  most  emi- 
nent men  have  been  selected  by  collating  the  space  given  to 
them  in  different  biographical  dictionaries  and  encyclopae- 
dias. The  method  secures  impartiality  and  an  assignable 
degree  of  accuracy,  it  being  possible  to  give  a  probable 
error  to  each  man.  The  list,  of  course,  only  gives  a  man!s 
place  in  contemporary  interest,  but  this  would  agree  closely 
with  the  average  verdict  of  the  best  judges  as  to  his  import- 
ance in  history.  The  exact  composition  of  the  list  is  not 
indeed  a  matter  of  much  importance  for  the  end  in  view, 
an  objectively  selected  list  of  great  men  being  what  is 


The  list  was  shown  at  the  meeting,  curves  were  exhib- 
ited demonstrating  the  distribution  in  time  and  race  of  the 
1000  men,  and  attention  was  called  to  some  facts  brought 
out  by  the  curves. 

(5.)  Sensibility  to  Pain  by  Pressure  in  the  Hands  of  Individuals 
of  Different  Classes,  Sexes  and  Nationalities.  By  Dr. 
ARTHUR  MACDONALD,  Bureau  of  Education,  Wash- 

Tabular  Statement  of  Results. 




No.  requir- 
ing more 
pressure  in 

in  kilos. 


No.  requir- 
ing m  ore 
pressure  in 




r.  h. 

1.  h. 











American     profes- 

sional men,   .    . 









American  business 

men    .... 



Q     £             fy     -, 



87  7* 



American    women, 


0  /•  /  3 

non-labor'g  class 









English  profession- 

al men,  .... 









English    women, 

non-labor'g  class 









"rerman  profession- 

al men  









Salvation    Army 

members,     Lon- 



73  2? 

Q  ie 



7  62 


Slum  men  in  Chap- 

/ j*  *•  j 

y*  *  D 

j  •  ^^ 

el  Rouge,  Paris. 









Boston  Army  of  the 

unemployed,  .  . 









Women   in  '  '  Mai- 

sons     de     Tol- 

ance,"  Paris,  .  . 









Epileptic  patients, 

laboring   people. 









Ddd  ones,  men,  in 










Odd  ones,  men,  in 

different    coun- 








tries,  .... 



VI  en  in  general,    . 
Women  in  general 










The  experiments  reported  were  made  incidentally  upon 
different  classes  of  people.  Quite  a  number  of  university 
specialists  interested  in  the  subject  were  experimented  upon. 


The  middle  of  the  palmar  fossa  was  chosen,  and  Professor 
Cattell's  Algometer  was  employed. 

Should  these  results  prove  to  be  generally  true  by  ex- 
periments on  larger  numbers  of  people,  the  following  state- 
ments would  be  probable :  The  majority  of  people  are  more 
sensitive  to  pain  in  their  left  hand  (only  exception  is  No.  10, 
cols.  4  and  7). 

Women  are  more  sensitive  to  pain  than  men  (Nos.  14  and 
15,  cols.  6  and  9).  Exceptions  are:  comp.  Nos.  4  and  5, 
cols.  6  and  9.  It  does  not  necessarily  follow  that  women 
cannot  endure  more  pain  than  men. 

American  professional  men  are  more  sensitive  to  pain 
than  American  business  men  (comp.  Nos.  I  and  2,  cols.  6 
and  9) ;  and  also  than  English  or  German  professional  men 
(comp.  Nos.  i,  4  and  6,  cols.  6  and  9).  • 

The  laboring  classes  are  much  less  sensitive  to  pain  than 
the  non-laboring  classes  (comp.  Nos.  i,  2  and  9,  cols.  6  and  9). 

The  women  of  the  lower  classes  are  much  less  sensitive 
to  pain  than  those  of  the  better  classes  (comp.  Nos.  3,  5  and 
10,  cols.  6  and  9).  In  general,  the  more  developed  the  ner- 
vous system,  the  more  sensitive  it  is  to  pain. 

Remark. — While  the  thickness  of  tissue  on  the  hand  has 
some  influence,  it  has  by  no  means  so  much  as  one  might 
suppose,  a  priori ;  for  many  with  thin  hands  require  much 
pressure  (Nos.  5  and  10,  cols.  6  and  9). 

(6).    The  Freedom  of  the  Will.     By  BROTHER  CHRYSOSTOM, 
Manhattan  College,  New  York. 

The  positive  results  of  the  latest  studies  of  the  will, 
through  introspection  and  experiment,  are  in  striking  accord 
with  the  teachings  of  the  Schoolmen.  The  appetencies  of 
Aristotle  have  been  replaced  by  conation,  which,  if  considered 
in  the  form  of  attention,  is  either  unequivocally  conditioned, 
and  then  corresponds  to  the  sensitive  appetition  of  scholastic 
philosophy,  or  is  equivocally  conditioned,  and  then  does  not 
essentially  differ  from  the  volition  of  earlier  philosophers. 
But  since  equivocally  conditioned  attention  may  include 
among  the  objects  attended  to  even  the  attending  subject,  it 
must  be  a  spiritual  action,  for  matter  is  incapable  of  such 


reflexive  process.  In  other  words,  the  attending  mind  is  a 
rational  soul.  In  this  light  apperception  may  be  characterized 
as  the  distinctive  quality  of  conation.  But  apperception 
supposes  at  least  such  intellective  action  as  is  contained  in 
conception,  and  this  in  turn  supposes  sensation ;  and  thus  a 
point  of  contact  is  made  with  Miinsterberg's  theory. 

Neither  a  purely  autogenetic  nor  a  purely  heterogenetic 
theory  of  will  accounts  for  all  the  facts.  For  conation  is  not 
a  mere  combination  of  sensations,  nor  a  resultant  of  affection 
and  sensation,  nor  does  it  consist  in  affection  alone.  Again 
peripheral  excitation  fails  to  account  for  the  active  element 
of  conation,  while  exclusively  central  excitation  overlooks 
external  influence.  We  must  then  adopt  a  theory  midway 
between  the  two  extremes.  Wundt,  therefore,  must  be  held 
to  state  rather  the  physiological  correlate  than  the  psychical 

The  chief  difficulty  as  to  the  freedom  of  the  will  is  found 
in  its  connection  with  the  law  of  causality,  which  law,  how- 
ever, belongs  to  the  domain  of  metaphysics,  only  indeter- 
minism  coming  within  the  limits  of  psychology.  Cause 
essentially  connotes  the  inflowing  of  the  agent  upon  some 
subject.  But  free  and  uncaused  are  not  synonyms.  All 
action  of  the  will  is  voluntary,  yet  not  all  its  action  is  free. 
For  although  the  presentation  of  pleasurable  or  painful  ob- 
jects to  the  will,  i.  e.,  the  motives,  together  with  the  agent's 
temperament  and  general  subjective  condition  determine  the 
spontaneous  impulse  of  his  will,  yet  it  is  a  fact  of  conscious 
experience  that  he  often  can  and  does  put  forth  at  the  same 
time  an  anti-impulsive  effort.  Only  actions  made  under  these 
conditions  are  rightly  called  free,  and  they  imply  essentially 
the  power  to  will  or  not  to  will. 

Yet  the  law  of  causality,  even  in  that  narrower  meaning 
which  obtains  in  the  physical  sciences,  also  applies  to  free 
.actions  in  the  mass,  for  we  can  determine  with  more  or  less 
probability  what  men  taken  generally  will  do  under  given 
circumstances.  In  conclusion,  Wundt's  assertion  that  a  free 
act  is  necessarily  an  uncaused  one,  is  virtually  an  admission 
that  the  will  is  superior  to  material  force,  and  is  therefore 


(7).  The  Consciousness  of  Identity  and  So-called  Double  Con- 
sciousness. By  Professor  GEORGE  T.  LADD,  Yale 

The  questions  in  debate  concerning  the  consciousness  of 
identity  and  so-called  double  consciousness  cannot  be  in- 
telligently discussed  without  a  critical  examination  of  the 
conceptions  involved.  What  then  do  we  mean  when  we 
speak  of  a  thing,  or  a  mind,  as  remaining  <  identical'  or  self- 
same, through  various  changes  of  state?  To  uncritical 
thought  it  doubtless  seems  as  though  some  unchanging 
'  core '  of  reality  belonged  to  every  being  of  which  we  feel 
ourselves  entitled  to  speak  in  this  way.  But  philosophi- 
cal criticism  seems  rather  to  assure  us  only  of  the  propo- 
sition :  The  real  identity  of  anything  consists  in  this,  that  its 
self-activity  manifests  itself,  in  all  its  different  relations  to  other 
things  as  conforming  to  law,  or  to  some  immanent  idea. 

From  this  it  follows  that  change,  in  itself,  is  not  incon- 
sistent with  identity  being  maintained.  On  the  contrary, 
it  is  the  very  character  of  the  actual  changes  observed  or 
inferred  which  leads  either  to  the  affirmation  or  to  the  denial 
of  identity.  This  principle  may  be  applied  to  whatever  is 
popularly  called  a  thing,  and  also  to  those  hypothetical  ele- 
ments of  all  material  things,  the  so-called  atoms. 

When  we  turn  to  consider  the  peculiar  identity  of  mind, 
we  find  that  the  affirmation  of  such  identity  can  never  be 
taken  as  a  denial  of  change.  Indeed,  the  very  real  being  of 
rnind  seems  dependent  upon  change, — in  the  form,  namely, 
of  successive  states  of  consciousness.  So  that  the  variety 
and  greatness  of  the  changes  experienced  may  heighten 
rather  than  diminish  the  reality  and  validity  of  the  conscious- 
ness of  identity,  properly  described  and  understood. 

Now  if  we  inquire  in  what  consists  this  conscious  identity, 
we  see  that  it  is,  and  can  be,  nothing  but  that  which  is 
given  to  consciousness,  in  all  states  of  self-consciousness,  of 
recognitive  memory,  and  of  reflective  thinking  about  the 
Self.  To  have  these  states  of  consciousness  is  to-  be  con- 
scious of  being  identical  and  self-same.  And  degrees  of  the 
^consciousness  .of  identity,  as  it  were,  are  connected  neces- 
sarily with  all  r£al  mental  development. 


In  accordance  with  this  metaphysical  analysis  we  may 
hopefully,  and  even  confidently,  venture  upon  the  attempt  to 
account  for  the  phenomena  of  so-called  double  consciousness, 
in  accordance  with  certain  well-known  psychological  prin- 
ciples. Of  these  one  may  be  spoken  of  as  the  principle  of 
'psychic  automatism.'  Under  this  principle  we  note  in 
many  of  our  most  familiar  experiences  such  a  diremption  of 
successive  states,  or  of  very  complex  present  states  into  two- 
fold combinations  of  elements,  as  makes  the  full  impression 
of  two  interacting  personalities,  rather  than  of  one  person. 
Yet  very  subtle  and  unrecognized  or  dimly  recognized  in- 
fluences of  one  upon  the  other,  of  the  Self-conscious  Ego 
upon  the  automaton,  or  the  reverse,  may  be  distinguished  by 
psychology.  All  this  is  popularly  expressed  either  by  say- 
ing, 'I  have  the  automaton,'  or  « the  automaton  has  me;' 
'I  am  the  automaton,'  or  'the  automaton  is  not  me.' 
Illustrations  of  all  this  may  be  derived  from  the  simpler  or 
more  complex  bodily  operations  as  under  the  influence  of 
semi-conscious  states,  and  in  turn  influencing  them ;  from 
many  deeds  of  skill  and  valor,  and  even  of  a  seemingly  high 
order  of  intelligence;  from  the  phenomena  of  artistic  and 
religious  inspiration,  etc. 

Closely  akin  to  this  is  the  most  effective  working  of 
another  principle,  which  we  will  call  that  of  a  <  dramatic 
sundering  of  the  Ego.'  We  can  more  or  less  consciously 
and  intentionally,  or  as  forced  by  circumstances,  so  '  put 
ourselves  into'  another  character  as  virtually  to  divide  the 
Self  into  two  or  more  selves,  whose  appropriate  states  of 
consciousness  either  follow  in  rapid  succession  or  seem  to 
occur  almost  simultaneously.  The  phenomena  of  dreams, 
the  plays  of  children,  the  experience  of  many  actors,  the 
phenomena  of  certain  states  of  inspiration,  the  imaginative 
genius  of  certain  writers,  like  Balzac  notably,  are  instances 
in  point  here.  Indeed,  the  very  nature  of  ethical  conscious- 
ness, in  its  highest  form  of  manifestation,  necessarily  seems 
to  involve  such  a  dramatic  sundering  of  the  Ego.  In  not 
very  infrequent  cases,  three  interacting  personalities  become 
manifest  in  consciousness.  These  may  be  described  as  the- 


tempter,  or  bad  angel,  the  good  angel,  and  the  Self  as  the 
'torn  one,'  between  the  two. 

In  fine,  it  seems  fair  to  expect  that  by  a  further  under- 
standing and  more  extended  application  of  these,  and  per- 
haps other  cognate  psychological  principles,  even  the  most 
extreme  hypnotic  cases  of  so-called  double-consciousness 
may  finally  be  explained. 

(8.)  A  Preliminary  Report  on  a  Research  into  the  Psychology  of 
Imitation.  By  Prof.  JOSIAH  ROYCE,  Harvard  Uni- 

This  report  first  briefly  described  a  collection  of  experi- 
ments now  under  way  at  the  Harvard  Psychological  Labora- 
tory, and  then  passed  to  some  reflections,  suggested  by 
these  experiments,  relating  to  the  definition  of  the  functions 
to  be  grouped  together  under  the  name  of  Imitation.  As 
the  text  of  the  report  is  to  appear  in  THE  PSYCHOLOGICAL 
REVIEW,  the  present  summary  need  not  be  extended.  The 
experiments,  which  at  present  are  only  in  their  first  begin- 
ning, have  thus  far  been  confined  to  the  imitation  of  some- 
what complex  series  of  taps,  given  by  an  electric  hammer, 
and  arranged  in  rhythms.  The  subjects  of  the  experiments 
imitate  the  taps,  after  hearing  each  rhythm,  through  repeat- 
ing the  hammer-strokes  by  means  of  an  electric  key.  The 
rhythms,  as  given  and  as  imitated,  are  recorded  on  the 
kymograph.  The  effects  of  habit,  in  successive  imitations 
of  the  same  rhythm,  the  influence  of  speed,  and  of  other 
factors  upon  success  in  imitation,  are  under  study.  The 
complexity  of  the  rhythms  studied  in  these  experiments 
forms  one  special  difference  of  this  enterprise  when  com- 
pared with  other  experimental  studies  of  rhythm.  For  the 
purpose  is  to  study,  not  the  rhythmic  consciousness  as  such, 
but  the  imitative  functions. 

Notes  of  subjective  experiences,  taken  down  during  or 
immediately  after  each  experiment  by  the  subjects  con- 
cerned, have  already  given  the  suggestion  for  those  consid- 
erations concerning  the  definition  of  imitation  with  which 
the  major  part  of  the  report  was  taken  up. 


(9.)     The    Classification    of   Pain.       By    Prof.    CHARLES   A. 
STRONG,  University  of  Chicago. 

This  paper  was  a  discussion  of  the  current  theory  that 
pleasure  and  pain  are  always  given  as  aspects  of  a  content 
distinct  from  themselves — the  feeling-tone,  <  quale,'  or  aspect 
theory.  It  sought  to  test  this  theory  by  considering  its 
application  to  the  case  of  cutaneous  pain. 

(1)  Neurologically,  we  know  no  facts  in  regard  to  cuta- 
neous   pain   which    decisively   contradict   the  theory.      For 
special  pain-nerves  are  more  than  doubtful ;   and  there  is  a 
symptom  of  locomotor  ataxia,  consisting  in  hyperalgesia  to 
heat  or  cold  without  hyperalgesia  to  pressure  and  even  with 
analgesia  to  pricking  and  pinching,   which  seems  to  prove 
that  some  pains  are  distinctively  pains  of  temperature.     The 
condition   of  analgesia,  moreover,   while  it  implies  distinct 
paths  for  pain  in  the  spinal  cord,  may  be  reconciled  with  the 
aspect   theory  by   holding  that  the   sensations    called    forth 
through  these  paths  is  a  tactile  or  temperature  sensation  in 
painful  phase. 

(2)  But,  introspectively,  it  is  impossible  in  certain  cases 
to  carry  out  the  analysis  for  which  the  aspect  theory  calls. 
Extreme  pressure,   heat  and  cold  produce  the  same  sensa- 
tion— a  sensation  not  of  heat  or  cold  or  pressure,  but  simply 
of  pain.     This  sensation  (Schmerz)  does  not  admit  of  analy- 
sis;  it  is  impossible  to   separate  it  into   a  content   and  an 
accompanying  feeling-tone.     But  it  may  call  forth  an  emo- 
tional reaction  in  the  shape  of  a  feeling  of  the  disagreeable 
or  intolerable  (Unlusf). 

In  conclusion,  the  inference  was  drawn  that  pain,  being  a 
sensation,  may  be  localized  and  may  leave  behind  images. 

[The  paper  will  be  printed  in  the  PSYCHOLOGICAL 
REVIEW  for  May,  1895.] 

(10).  A  Theory  of  Emotions  from  the  Physiological  Standpoint. 
By  Prof.  G.  H.  MEAD,  University  of  Chicago. 

Prof.  Dewey  having  shown  that  it  is  possible  to  make  a 
complete  teleological  statement  of  the  emotions  along  the 
line  of  the  discharge  theory,  it  is  interesting  to  see  how  far 
such  a  statement  may  be  paralleled  by  a  physiological  theory. 


This  would  involve,  also,  a  physiological  theory  of  pleasure 
and  pain.  As  pain  can  be  differentiated  from  the  sensations 
in  connection  with  which  it  generally  appears  in  conscious- 
ness, as  it  shows  itself  under  circumstances  in  which  the 
tissue  of  the  end  organs  or  the  nerves  themselves  are  affected, 
and  as  in  the  diseases  in  which  we  find  pain  as  a  constant 
concomitant,  those  parts  are  affected,  which  are  richly  sup- 
plied with  blood  vessels  by  means  of  supporting  and  nourish- 
ing tissues  (Rindfleiscli  s  inter  me  didrer  Erndhrungsapparaf], 
and  as  in  those  diseases  which  pass  usually  without  pain 
{as  in  the  catarrhs  of  the  various  mucous  membranes)  the 
tissues  affected  are  poorly  supplied  with  such  blood  vessels, 
and  enter  into  relation  with  the  capillaries  generally  through 
the  lymph,  for  the  purposes  of  secretion,  it  becomes  at 
least  probable  that,  physiologically,  pain  may  be  considered 
as  the  interference  through  poisons  or  violence  or  otherwise 
with  the  process  of  nutrition  as  carried  out  in  the  finer 
arteries  and  blood  vessels.  Pleasure  must  from  this  stand- 
point be  considered  as  physiologically  the  normal  or  rather 
hightened  process  of  nutrition  in  the  organs,  and  the  nerve 
paths  which  connect  these  with  the  central  nervous  system 
would  be  probably  the  sympathetic. 

In  the  simple  instinctive  act  that  lies  behind  every  emo- 
tion, the  vaso-motor  system  is  called  into  action  by  the 
enlargement  of  the  small  blood  vessels  in  the  muscles  and 
sweat  glands.  To  maintain  the  blood  pressure  the  finer 
blood  vessels  in  the  abdominal  tracts  are  closed  by  the  con- 
strictors of  that  region,  and  the  action  of  the  heart  may  also 
be  increased  by  the  accelerators.  The  vaso-motor  system 
thus  is,  in  these  simpler  instinctive  acts,  in  automatic  con- 
nection with  the  senso-motor.  The  act  must  commence 
before  the  flow  of  blood  can  take  place.  It  is  in  con- 
nection with  this  increased  flow  of  blood  that  we  have  to 
assume  the  emotional  tones  of  consciousness  arise  according 
to  the  discharge  theory.  Within  the  act  it  would  answer 
only  to  interest.  It  is  in  the  preparation  for  action  that  we 
find  the  qualitatively  different  emotional  tones,  and  here  we 
find  increased  flow  of  blood  before  the  act.  We  find  also 
what  we  may  term  symbolic  stimuli,  which  tend  to  arouse 


the  vaso-motor  processes  that  are  originally  called  out  only 
by  the  instinctive  acts.  These  stimuli  in  the  form  in  which 
we  can  study  them,  seem  to  be  more  or  less  rhythmical  repe- 
titions of  those  moments  in  the  act  itself  which  call  forth 
especially  the  vaso-motor  response.  In  this  form  they  are 
recognized  as  aesthetic  stimuli,  and  may  be  best  studied  in 
the  war  and  love  dances.  It  is  under  the  influence  of  stimuli 
of  this  general  character  that  the  emotional  states  and  their 
physiological  parallels  arise.  The  teleology  of  these  states 
is  that  of  giving  the  organism  an  evaluation  of  the  act  before 
the  coordination  that  leads  to  the  particular  reaction  has 
been  completed. 

(n).   Desire   as  the  Essence  of  Pleasure  and  Pain.      By  Dr. 
D.  S.  MILLER,  Bryn  Mawr  College. 

Pleasure  and  pain,  in  the  discussion  now  going  forward 
as  to  their  classification  and  physical  basis,  are  commonly 
treated  as  among  our  passive  sensory  experiences;  at  all 
events,  it  would  seem  to  most  psychologists  a  somewhat 
stupid  paradox  to  assert  that  they  were  in  any  sense  motor 
phenomena.  Yet  there  is  solid  ground  for  holding  this 
paradox;  for  maintaining,  at  least,  that  pleasantness  (the 
quality  which,  along  with  their  specific  differences  of  char- 
acter, marks  all  so-called  pleasures)  and  painfulness  (the 
quality  which,  along  with  their  specific  differences  of  char- 
acter, marks  all  so-called  pains)  are  essentially  motor  facts. 
A  pain  is  an  intolerable  feeling ;  different  as  they  are  among 
themselves,  all  pains  have  this,  at  least,  in  common,  that 
they  are  intolerable.  No  other  feeling  is  intolerable ;  if  it 
were  we  should  call  it  a  pain.  It  would,  then,  not  be  easy 
to  refute  the  proposition  that  painfulness  is  intolerableness ; 
that  so-called  pains  have  no  other  common  class-attribute. 
Now  intolerableness  is  the  quality  of  uniformly  provoking  a 
certain  bodily  disquietude  or  rebellion,  issuing,  where  the 
nature  of  the  case  permits,  in  an  attempt  to  escape  from  the 
offending  irritant.  And  this  is  a  motor  phenomenon.  The 
various  disagreeables  (a  term  with  which  'pains'  in  my  mean- 
ing is  convertible)  a  needle-prick,  a  headache,  a  burn,  the 
numb  internal  ache  of  cold  hands,  the  taste  of  quinine,,  the 


smell  of  assafoetida,  the  scratching  of  a  slate-pencil,  'gnaw- 
ing pains,'  'shooting  pains/  muscular  fatigue,  disappoint- 
ment, humiliation — these  have  no  such  intrinsic  resemblance 
in  sensational  complexion  as  we  find  among  different  sights 
or  sounds — between  the  members  of  the  class  of  visual,  or  of 
the  class  of  auditory  sensations;  they  are  similar  only  in  the 
extrinsic  fact  that  they  all  alike  are  accompanied  by  a 
bodily  reaction — some  flinching  or  shuddering  or  convulsion, 
some  restiveness  or  inner  tension — which  tends  then  and 
afterwards  to  pass  into  movements  of  avoidance,  escape  or 
repulse.  Now  these  movements  and  the  tendencies  to  them 
are  what  we  know  as  aversion  in  its  various  forms  and 

If  painfulness  is  intolerableness,  pleasantness,  on  similar 
grounds,  is  the  quality  of  being  welcome.  The  bodily  re- 
action of  gusto  is  as  characteristic,  though  not  so  obtrusive 
as  that  of  intolerance ;  and  it  tends  to  pass  into  movements 
of  retention  or  procurement.  These  movements  and  the 
tendencies  to  them  are  what  we  know  as  desire  in  its  various 
forms  and  degrees. 

(12.)  Pleasure  and  Pain  Defined.     By  Prof.  SIDNEY  E.  MEZES, 
University  of  Texas. 

It  is  necessary  to  find  some  fact  or  group  of  facts  that  is 
present  whenever  we  experience  pleasure  and  absent  when- 
ever we  do  not,  and  another  fact  or  group  of  facts  present 
and  absent  with  pain.  The  frequent  confusion  of  unpleas- 
ants  with  pains  is  very  misleading.  Unpleasants  are  of 
three  kinds:  memories  and  expectations,  sensational  un- 
pleasants  that  are  not  pains — bitter  tastes,  e.  g. — and  sensa- 
tional unpleasants  that  are  pains — a  toothache,  e.  g.  We 
have  here  to  define  pleasure  and  the  unpleasant.  Attempts 
have  been  made  to  define  pleasure-pains  as  sensations,  as 
emotions,  and  as  making  up  the  genus  of  which  sensations 
and  emotions  are  two  species.  The  fact  that  there  is  evi- 
dence for  each  of  the  first  two  theories  shows  that  neither 
is  exhaustive  and  competent.  Besides  the  existence  of  pleas- 
ant and  unpleasant  memories,  expectations  and  fancies  inval- 
idates all  three.  Many  hold  that  pleasure-pains  are  ultimate 


ideas,  simple  and  undefinable,  like  colors.  There  are  strong 
positive  objections  to  this  theory,  but  negatively,  and  for 
our  purposes,  it  suffices  that  this  theory  is  a  last  resort,  and. 
that  its  supporters  must  overthrow  all  other  theories  before 
legitimately  claiming  it  as  established.  This  theory  is  valu- 
able and  true  in  so  far  as  it  points  out  that  neither  pleasures, 
as  a  whole  nor  unpleasants  as  a  whole  have  any  properties, 
in  common.  It  overlooks  the  possibility  that  there  may  be 
something  invariably  co-present  with  pleasures  and  some- 
other  invariably  co-present  with  pains ;  and  that  these  two* 
may  be  the  signs  to  us  of  the  presence  of  pleasures  and 
pains, — what  induces  us  to  call  a  state  pleasant  or  unpleas- 
ant. Now  Plato,  Aristotle,  Hobbes,  Kant,  and  Schopen- 
hauer agree  that  harmony  or  good  adjustment  is  the  mark 
of  pleasure,  ill-adjustment  that  of  pain.  Not  all  these  wri- 
ters point  out  the  terms  between  which  the  adjustment  is  to- 
obtain,  but  recently  Wundt  and  Ward  have  held  that  the 
adjustment  is  of  attention  to  its  object.  This  immediately 
plausible  suggestion  of  attention  and  adjustment  must  be 
examined.  Clearly  what  is  not  attended  to  is  indifferent 
since  uninteresting.  Further  immediate  attention  to  pleas- 
ures is  not  the  same  as  that  to  pains :  the  former  is  easy  and 
natural,  the  latter  enforced  and  obstructed.  Again  derived 
attention,  always  to  unpleasants,  is  invariably  obstructed  by 
the  more  pleasant  rivals  to  attention  also  present.  May 
it  not  be  that  attention  without  obstruction  is  the  mark  of 
pleasure,  attention  with  obstruction  that  of  pain?  The  evi- 
dence for  this  view  may  be  thus  suggested :  All  states  of 
intensely  concentrated  attention  are  pleasant,  hard  thinking, 
hard  play,  strenuous  work;  all  states  of  internal  conflict- 
hesitation,  practical  puzzle,  co-present  irreconcilable  im- 
pulses, morbidly  insistent  ideas,  etc. — are  unpleasant;  and 
further  physical  pains,  owing  to  their  great  intensity,  rever- 
berate widely  and  naturally  set  up  mutually  obstructive 
reflexes.  The  paper  appears  in  the  Philos.  Rev.,  Jan.,  1895. 

(13.)  Emotions  versus  Pleasure -Pain.     By  Mr.  HENRY  RUT- 

Mr.  Marshall  reviewed  his  <  genetic '   argument  in  rela- 
tion to  the  Emotions,  emphasizing  the  contention  that  the 


typical  Emotions  are  named  because  (i°)  they  correspond  to 
relatively  fixed  relations  between  the  physical  elements 
reacting,  and  because  (2°)  these  reactions  are  immediate. 
Failure  of  these  two  conditions  can  be  traced  where  '  in- 
stinct feelings '  have  no  emotional  names.  Emotions  are  in 
their  nature  irregular  in  recurrence,  and  to  be  of  value  must 
be  forceful  in  reaction ;  hence  Emotions  are  not  usually  lost 
to  consciousness  as  many  *  instinct  feelings '  are,  although, 
if  these  Emotions  become  rhythmical  and  weak,  they  act  as 
other  states  do  in  relation  to  fixity  of  habit.  Pleasure  and 
pain  relate  to  organic,  while  Emotions  relate  to  individual  or 
racial,  effectiveness  or  ineffectiveness ;  therefore  their  gene- 
sis cannot  be  considered  to  have  been  coincident  in  time,  nor 
to  be  of  the  same  type. 

The  identification  of  Emotion  and  Pleasure-Pain  in  *  Feel- 
ing '  is  dependent  upon  the  validity  of  the  tripartite  division 
of  mind ;  which  is  upheld  by  metaplvysical  postulation  but 
not  by  psychological  evidence.  Prof.  Croom  Robertson 
argued  that  the  exhaustive  categories,  The  True,  The  Good, 
The  Beautiful,  themselves  proved  the  validity  of  the  divis- 
ion. But  the  existence  of  the  division  is  explicable  in  quite 
another  way,  as  due  to  the  search  for  Reality.  In  relation 
to  mental  experience  in  general,  this  search  gives  us  the 
True;  in  relation  to  Impression,  it  gives  us  the  Beautiful; 
and  in  relation  to  Expression,  it  gives  us  the  Good.  If  we 
are  to  discard  this  classical  tripartite  division,  we  should  be 
able  to  account  for  its  persistence.  It  results  from  an  at- 
tempt to  unify  two  diverse  classifications,  both  bipartite; 
viz.,  i°,  the  receptive-reactive  classification,  and,  2°,  the 
subjective-objective  classification :  Sensation  and  Intellect 
(knowing)  being  bound  together  on  both  the  receptive-reac- 
tive and  on  the  subjective-objective  schemes;  Pleasure-Pain 
and  Emotion  (feeling)  being  bound  together  on  the  subject- 
ive-objective scheme,  the  receptive-reactive  quality  being 
unmarked ;  Will  being  marked  by  a  common  and  coordinate 
emphasis  of  the  reactive  and  also  of  the  objective  qualities. 
The  existence  of  this  tripartite  division,  thus  explained,  can 
therefore  no  longer  be  used  as  an  argument  for  the  bond 
between  Emotion  and  Pleasure-Pain,  which  states  are  dis- 

1 6  8    MEE  TING  OF  A  M ERIC  A  N  PS  YCHOL  0  GICA  L  A  SSO  CIA  TION. 

tinctly  separable,  the  relation  between  them  being  this :  The 
Emotions  are  complex  psychoses  which  almost  invariably 
involve  repressions  or  hypernormal  activities,  either  of 
which  are  determinants  either  of  pleasure  or  of  pain. 

(14.)  Notes  on  the  Experimental  Production  of  Hallucinations 
and  Illusions.  By  Prof.  W.  ROMAINE  NEWBOLD,  Uni- 
versity of  Pennsylvania. 

Dr.  Newbold  reported  that  in  22  out  of  86  cases  tried  he 
had  succeeded  in  producing  illusions  by  causing  the  patients 
to  gaze  into  a  transparent  or  reflecting  medium,  such  as 
water,  glass,  and  mirrors.  His  most  successful  cases  were 
found  among  young  women  under  twenty  years  of  age  who 
were  good  visualisers,  but  as  a  majority  of  his  subjects  were 
young  women,  and  as  the  experiments  were  by  preference 
made  upon  good  visualisers,  he  was  not  inclined  to  lay  much 
stress  upon  these  conditions.  The  phantasm  was  usually 
preceded  by  cloudiness,  flushes  of  color  or  of  light  in  the 
medium,  and  varied  from  a  dim,  colorless  outline  to  a  fully 
developed  and  brilliantly  colored  picture.  The  images  were 
frequently  drawn  from  the  patient's  recent  visual  experience, 
were  sometimes  fantastic  and  frequently  unrecognised.  The 
successive  images  were  usually  associated,  if  at  all,  by  similar- 
ity, but  frequently  no  relation  could  be  discovered  between 
them.  Association  by  contiguity  was  excessively  rare.  The 
phantasm  was  frequently,  but  not  always,  destroyed  by  move- 
ments of  the  medium  and  by  distracting  sensory  impressions 
and  motor  effort.  Occasionally  the  phantasm  was  to  a  con- 
siderable degree  independent  of  the  medium,  persisted  for 
some  time  after  the  removal  of  the  medium,  and  in  one  such 
case  appeared  to  obey  the  laws  of  the  after-image.  The 
importance  of  such  phenomena  upon  the  question  as  to  the 
value  of  the  central  component  in  the  after-image  is  obvious. 

No  trace  was  observed  of  telepathic  or  other  supposed 
supernormal  agency.  There  seemed  to  be  no  reason  for 
regarding  the  phantasms  of  the  glass  as  anything  other  than 
illusions  of  the  ordinary  types  depending  upon  the  glass  as  a 
point  de  rfyere.  Their  chief  speculative  importance,  apart 
from  the  light  which  they  may  throw  upon  the  after-image, 


lies  in  the  fact  that  they  present  to  us  processes  of  associa- 
tion by  similarity  in  concrete,  sensible  form,  and  in  their 
possible  relation  to  subconscious  ' automatic'  processes. 
While  the  phantasms  as  such  cannot  be  regarded  as  demon- 
strating the  existence  of  such  processes,  it  is  probable  that, 
if  subconscious  automatism  exists,  its  products  may  be  trace- 
able in  the  phantasms  of  the  glass.  It  is  possible  also  that 
some  specific  relation  exists  between  the  hypnotic  conscious- 
ness and  the  phantasm  of  the  glass.  Dr.  Newbold  found  that 
images  unrecognised  by  the  waking  consciousness  were  some- 
times recollected  by  the  patient  when  hypnotised,  and,  vice 
versa,  experiments  by  Mr.  F.  W.  H.  Myers  have  shown  that 
a  tale  related  in  hypnosis  is  sometimes  presented  in  the  glass 
externalised  in  dramatic  form. 

[This  paper  is  to  be  printed  in  full  in  an  early  number  of 

(15.)  Experiments  on  Dermal  Pain.     By  HAROLD  GRIFFING, 
Ph.D.,  Columbia  College. 

By  means  of  an  algometer  transmitting  pressure  up  to  15 
kilog.  the  average  pain  threshold  was  found  to  be  for  40 
college  students,  5.5  ;  for  38  law  students,  7.8;  for  98  women, 
3.6;  for  50  boys,  12-15  years  of  age,  4.8.  The  palm  of  the 
hand  was  the  place  of  stimulation.  The  most  sensitive  parts 
of  the  body  are  those  where  the  skin  is  not  separated  from 
the  bone  by  muscular  and  other  tissues. 

In  80  experiments  on  two  observers  the  area  was  variable, 
areas  of  10  mm.,  30  mm.,  90  mm.  and  270  mm.  being  given. 
The  corresponding  average  values  of  the  pain  threshold 
were  1.4  kilog.,  2.8  kilog.,  4.4  kilog.  and  6.6  kilog.  Thus 
the  pain  threshold  increases  with  the  area  of  stimulation,  but 
much  more  slowly  than  in  direct  proportion. 

The  time  in  which  dermal  stimuli  of  different  intensities 
cause  pain  was  found  by  noting  the  time  that  elapsed  before 
the  appearance  of  pain  after  weights  had  been  placed  in  a 
balance  pan  in  such  a  way  as  to  press  upon  the  hand.  The 
averages  in  seconds,  based  upon  80  experiments  on  two  ob- 
servers, are  as  follows:  For  100  g.,  230  sec. ;  for  200  g.,  35 
sec.;  for  300  g.,  10  sec. ;  for  500  g.,  4.5  sec.  Thus  the  time, 


as  well  as  the  area  and  intensity  of  stimulation,  are  factors  im 
dermal  pain.  There  is,  moreover,  an  intensive  limit  below 
which  pressure  stimuli  never  cause  pain.  Above  this  limit 
the  sensory  effect  of  the  time  seems  to  be  in  direct  propor- 
tion to  that  of  intensity. 

The  pain  threshold  for  falling  weights  was  found  to 
depend  as  much  upon  the  height  as  the  mass.  As  both  the 
height  and  mass  are  proportional  to  the  kinetic  energy  of 
the  moving  mass,  the  stimulus  for  dermal  pain  in  impact 
must  be  considered  the  energy  of  the  striking  object. 

(16.)   The  Normal Night-Blindness  of  the  Fovea.    By  CHRISTINE. 
LADD  FRANKLIN,  Baltimore. 

Konig's  announcement  in  May,  1894,  of  the  very  close 
coincidence  of  the  curve  showing  the  distribution  of  bright- 
ness along  the  spectrum  for  (i)  the  totally  color-blind  and 
(2)  the  normal  eye  in  a  faint  light,  with  the  curve  of  relative 
absorption  of  different  portions  of  the  spectrum  by  the  visual 
purple  (and  the  obvious  inference  therefrom  that  the  vision 
of  the  totally  color-blind  and  that  of  the  normal  eye  in  a 
faint  light  are  conditioned  by  the  presence  of  the  visual  pur- 
ple in  the  retina)  made  necessary  some  assumption  to  take 
account  of  the  fact  that  no  visual  purple  has  hitherto  been 
found  in  the  fovea.  Two  assumptions  were  possible, — either 
that  the  cones  (and  hence  the  fovea)  do  contain  visual  purple, 
but  of  such  an  extremely  decomposable  character  that  it  can 
never  be  detected  objectively ;  or,  that  the  eye  of  the  totally 
color-blind  person,  and  the  normal  eye  in  a  faint  light,  are 
actually  blind  in  the  fovea.  As  I  had  already  made  the 
prediction  that  total  color-blindness  consists  in  a  defective 
development  of  the  cones  of  the  retina  (Ztsch.  f.  Psych,  u. 
Phys.  der  Sinnesorgane,  Bd.  IV.,  1892)  and  also  that  the  adap- 
tation which  renders  vision  possible  after  twenty  minutes  in 
a  faint  light  is  conditioned  by  the  growth  of  the  visual  pur- 
ple (Mind,  N.  S.  III.,  p.  103) — both  predictions  being  nat- 
urally suggested  by  my  theory  of  light-sensation — I  was 
most  anxious  to  put  the  latter  assumption  to  the  test.  I 
therefore  undertook  to  determine,  in  the  dark  rooms  of  Prof. 
Konig's  laboratory,  the  threshold  for  light-sensation  for  dif- 


ferent  parts  of  the  retina  and  for  different  kinds  of  mono- 
chromatic  light  (the   full  results  of  this   investigation   will 
appear  later).     The  blindness  of  the  fovea  for  faint  light  did 
not  at  once  reveal  itself;   the  act  of  fixation   means  holding 
the  eye  so  that  an  image  falls  on  the  part  of  the  retina  best 
adapted  for  seeing  it,  and  hence  it  would  involve  keeping  the 
image  oiit  of  the  fovea  in  a  faint  light,  if  the  fovea  were  really 
blind  in  a  faint  light.      But  after  the  total  disappearance  of 
the  small  bright  object  looked  at  had  several  times  occurred 
by  accident,  it  became  possible  to  execute  the  motion  of  the 
eye  necessary  to  secure  it  at  pleasure.      It  was  then  found 
that  the  simple  device  of  presenting  a  group  of  small  bright 
objects  to  the  eye  of  the  observer  was  sufficient  to  demon- 
strate the   'normal  night-blindness   of  the  fovea'  (as  it  may 
best  be  called)  without  any  difficulty, — one  or  the  other  of 
them  is  sure  to  fall  into  the  dark  hole  of  the  fovea  by  acci- 
dent.    It  was  only  by  means  of  this  arragement  of  a  number 
of  small  bright  spots  that  the  total  blindness  in  the  fovea  of 
the  totally  color-blind  boy  could  be  detected, — he  had,   of 
course,  learned  not  to  use  his  fovea  in  fixation.      Prof.  Konig 
then  proceeded  to   demonstrate   the   total  blindness  in   the 
fovea  of  the  normal  eye  to  blue  light  of  wave-length  about 
X47O.1     [These  experiments  upon  the  normal  eye  were  exhib- 
ited at  Princeton.]     It  was  shown  that  Konig's  proof  that  the 
pigment-epithelium  is  the  only  layer  of  the  retina  which  is 
affected  by  red,  yellow  and  green  light  is  not  wholly  con- 
clusive.      The    interpretation   of    the    new   facts,    and   their 
bearing  upon  the  several  theories   of  light-sensation,  were 
discussed.     [This  paper  appears  in  full  in  the   PSYCHOLO- 
GICAL REVIEW  for  March,  1895.] 

(18.)   The  Muscular  Sense  und  its  Location  in  the  Brain  Cortex. 
By  Prof.  M.  ALLEN  STARR,  New  York. 

[This  paper  was  presented  in  the  absence  of  Prof.  Starr. 
It  may  be  found  in  full  in  the  number  of  the  PSYCHOLOGICAL 
REVIEW  for  January,  1895.] 

1  Prof.  v.  Kries  is  said  to  have  shown  that  the  experiments  in  question  do  not 
establish  the  blue-blindness  of  the  fovea  (Berichte  der  naturforschenden  Gesellschaft 
zu  Freibttrg,  IX.,  2,  S.  61).  I  have  not  yet  had  access  to  this  criticism. 


(19.)  Psychology  in    the    University   of  Toronto.      Prof.   J.    G. 
HUME,  University  of  Toronto. 

In  the  University  of  Toronto  we  begin  the  work  in  Psy- 
chology, etc.,  in  the  Sophomore  year.  Up  to  that  time  the 
students  are  engaged  in  language  studies,  mathematics, 
English  history,  chemistry,  biology,  etc.  After  the  Sopho- 
more year  they  still  continue  some  of  this  language  study  as 
supplemental  to  the  philosophical  course.  The  latter,  begin- 
ning with  psychology,  logic  and  theory  of  knowledge  in  the 
second  year,  psychology,  logic,  theory  of  ethics,  history  of 
ethics  and  history  of  philosophy  in  the  third  year,  keep 
extending  until,  in  the  fourth  year,  those  who  have  selected 
this  course  give  all  their  time  to  the  subjects  of  the  course 
without  any  supplemental  work,  taking,  in  the  fourth  year, 
psychology,  ethics,  history  of  philosophy,  special  readinj 
in  the  original  of  various  selections  from  the  whole  period 
of  modern  philosophy,  giving  special  attention  to  Kant  and 

In  experimental  psychology :  Second  year,  2d  part  of 
the  year:  Demonstrations  from  the  Director,  explanation  of 
methods  and  practice.  In  the  third  year,  during  the  whole 
year,  the  class,  divided  into  groups,  is  under  the  charge  of 
the  Director  of  the  Laboratory.  In  the  fourth  year  they 
are  supposed  to  be  able  to  undertake  experiments  of  an  inde- 
pendent character.  Some  of  the  inquiries  started  in  the 
fourth  year  are  continued  in  post-graduate  work. 

In  the  present  fourth  year  there  are  sixteen  honor  students 
conducting  four  sets  of  experiments,  that  is,  in  four  groups, 
with  four  in  each  group:  I.  On  Time  reactions  (Mechanical 
registration  instead  of  the  Chronoscope);  II.  Discrimination 
of  Geometrical  Figures  and  Letters  in  the  Field  of  Indirect 
Vision;  III.  Discrimination  of  Color-saturation;  IV.  Di; 
crimination  and  Reproduction  of  Rhythmic  Intervals.  Ii 
post-graduate  study  there  are  two  enquiries  being  continue( 
from  last  year:  I.  Estimation  of  Surface-magnitude;  II.  On 
Certain  Optical  Illusions.  The  Director  of  the  Laboratory, 
Dr.  August  Kirschmann,  has  in  the  press  a  recently  finished 
investigation  upon  the  nature  of  the  perception  of  metallic 

[This  paper  was  presented  in  the  absence  of  Prof.  Hume.] 


The  tendency  to  assume  that  the  peculiar  sensations  involved  in 
any  psychological  fact  are  the  fact  itself,  comes  out  strongly  in  the 
present  discussion  over  emotion. 

When  it  is  shown,  for  instance,  that  apart  from  certain  visceral 
and  vaso-motor  sensations  there  is  no  emotion  worth  speaking  of, 
we  are  asked  to  view  emotion  and  these  sensations  as  identical. 
Why  should  we  not,  quite  as  well,  take  emotion  to  be  merely  a  flutter 
of  thought  or  a  special  aspect  of  attention  ?  Apart  from  these,  there 
is  likewise  no  *  coarse  '  emotion. 

In  fact  emotion  requires  the  bodily  sensations,  but  it  requires 
them  to  be  under  definite  mental  conditions  which  are  as  indispen- 
sable as  the  sensations  themselves.  In  the  first  place,  some  interest 
which  will  divert  the  attention  so  that  these  sensations  may  play  the 
part  of  mere  'fringe,'  is  doubtless  an  important  condition  for  the 
life  of  the  sensations,  but  it  is  also  more.  Such  an  interest  keeps 
the  sensations  in  a  peculiar  relation  to  the  whole  mental  field.  So 
that  the  sudden  loss  of  emotion  when  attention  is  turned  to  the 
body,  is  probably  due  less  to  the  fading  of  the  essential  sensations 
than  to  their  reversed  relation  in  the  general  mental  state.  Momen- 
tarily even  during  strong  excitement,  so  my  observation  goes,  we 
can  glance  at  the  bodily  commotion  while  many  of  its  most  striking 
elements  continue  vigorous.  We  may  even  cut  down  between  them 
and  us,  viewing  them  as  outsiders,  as  confusion  of  the  body  and  not 
of  the  thinking  itself.  Instead  of  strong  emotion  the  state  instantly 
changes  to  one,  say,  of  psychological  query  not  markedly  emotional. 
The  next  instant  the  attention  is  away,  the  sensations  surge  back 
over  the  thought,  the  point  of  interest  is  seen  through  the  confusion, 
and  the  state  is  unmistakably  emotional.  As  far  as  I  could  make 
out,  the  sensation-substrate  of  the  two  states  is  about  the  same,  and 
yet  the  states  themselves  are  decidedly  different. 

In  emotion  we  feel  that  there  is  confusion  in  us, — in  this  end  of 
the  relation.  But  when  we  turn  upon  the  bodily  sensations  them- 
selves, the  confusion  seems  to  go  over  to  the  other  end  of  the 



relation.  The  object  of  attention  now  is  in  turmoil,  but  the  thought- 
process  itself  may  for  a  moment  be  comparatively  calm.  The  state 
then  need  not  be  emotional,  though  the  object  watched  is  disturbed 

It  is  difficult  to  give  the  facts  in  less  figurative  language.  But 
substituting  the  classic  figures,  we  may  say  that  for  a  state  to  be 
emotional  it  requires  a  special  character  of  '  form '  as  well  as  a 
special  character  of  'matter,'  whether  this  matter  be  taken  as  sen- 
sation or  'tone'  or  both.  In  the  general  upheaval,  the  operations 
which  relate  the  sensations  are  usually  more  or  less  disordered.  The 
central  nervous  processes  act  spasmodically.  Thought  is  wavering, 
and  the  confused  bodily  sensations  seem  part  and  parcel  of  the  con- 
fused thinking.  But  these  sensations  are  by  no  means  equivalent  to 
the  emotion.  They  are  merely  one  abstract  aspect  of  the  emotion, 
of  which  other  important  (though  likewise  abstract)  aspects  are  the 
rush  and  whirl  of  thought,  and  the  special  relation  of  the  sensations 
to  the  mental  field. 



On  p.  72  of  the  last  number  of  the  PSYCHOLOGICAL  REVIEW  an 
omission  was  made  in  my  abstract  of  the  Sidgwick  report  on  hallu- 
cinations which  makes  the  calculated  figure  of  1300  on  line  9  from 
the  top  of  the  page  unintelligible.  The  figure  calculated  from  the 
premises  which  I  quote  is  1400,  for  which  my  text  substitutes  1300 
with  no  motive  assigned.  The  motive  obeyed  by  the  authors  of  the 
report  is  the  probable  untrustworthiness  of  accounts  of  apparitions 
falling  within  the  first  ten  years  of  the  informant's  life.  Such 
visions  are  subtracted  by  the  committee  both  from  the  total  number 
of  recognized  apparitions  and  from  the  number  of  coincidental 
apparitions  [See  Proceedings  of  S.  P.  R.,  pp.  65,  247].  They  form 
8  per  cent,  of  the  former,  so  that  my  abstract  of  the  calculation 
should  have  dealt  with  ^  of  350  instead  of  350.  This  makes  322, 
a  figure  which  multiplied  by  4  gives  1288.  For  this  the  committee 
substitute  1300,  as  a  'round  number,'  slightly  more  favorable  to 
the  adversary.  W.  J. 


Philosophical  Remains  of  George  Croom  Robertson.  With  a  Memoir. 
Edited  by  A.  BAIN  and  T.  WHITTAKER.  London,  Williams  & 
Norgate,  1894.  Pp.  XXIV +  481. 

In  this  volume  we  have,  with  the  exception  of  the  little  book  on 
Hobbes  and  one  or  two  historical  articles,  all  Robertson's  philosophi- 
cal writings.  This  goodly  volume,  however,  is  more  than  half  com- 
posed by  the  republication  of  shorter  articles,  critical  notices,  and 
notes  from  Mind.  An  outsider  may  well  wonder  why  a  good  deal  of 
this  should  have  been  reprinted.  The  explanation  is  simple.  Robert- 
son held  a  high  reputation  in  England  as  a  teacher  of  philosophy. 
This  reputation  owed  something  to  the  startling  and  sensational  man- 
ner in  which  he  appeared  on  the  philosophic  scene,  when,  as  a  youth 
of  25,  and  quite  unknown  beyond  his  own  Scotch  University,  he  was 
elected  Professor  of  Philosophy  at  University  College,  London,  over 
the  head  of  Dr.  James  Martineau.  This  election,  due  to  the  strong 
backing  of  his  teacher  Dr.  Bain,  and  Bain's  friend  George  Grote, 
showed  at  least  that  there  were  some  who  expected  high  things  of 
the  Aberdeen  youth.  And  their  expectations  were  not  disappointed. 
Robertson  proved  to  be  an  excellent  teacher,  endowed  with  the 
peculiar  gift  of  guiding  the  young  learner  into  the  labyrinth  of  phil- 
osophic complexities  by  help  of  a  few  well  defined  clues.  To  some 
his  lectures  were  too  elementary,  and  moved  too  slowly,  but  to  the 
average  student  they  were  exceptionally  helpful.  He  soon  began  to 
be  known  in  London  society  as  an  authority  on  philosophical  ques- 
tions. He  was  a  member  of  the  oddly-named  Metaphysical  Society, 
the  raison  d'etre  of  which  is  said  to  have  been  the  desire  of  Lord 
Tennyson,  expressed  to  his  faithful  attendant,  Mr.  James  Knowles, 
to  ascertain  whether  he  had  a  soul,  though  it  soon  became  evident  that 
the  experts,  viz.,  the  theologians  of  all  creeds  and  the  scientists,  who 
were  called  in  to  decide  the  great  question,  were  much  more  con- 
cerned to  attack  one  another's  views.  Robertson  could  hardly  have 
felt  quite  comfortable  here,  yet  he  managed  to  get  this  *  metaphysi- 
cal '  omnium  gatherum,  or  rather  a  portion  of  it,  to  listen  to  one  or 
two  papers  of  his  own.  Outside  this  society  his  influence  steadily 



grew.  His  appointment  to  the  editorship  of  Mind  in  1876,  when 
that  journal  led  the  way  among  English  and  American  philosophical 
serials,  greatly  widened  the  sphere  of  his  influence.  This  brought 
him  later  on  into  touch  with  Prof.  W.  James  and  other  Americans 
as  well  as  with  French  and  German  thinkers.  The  present  given 
to  him  by  contributors  on  his  retiring  from  Mind  two  or  three  years 
ago  showed  how  warmly  he  had  attached  many  by  his  excellent  con- 
duct of  the  journal.  For  some  years  his  house  was  the  rallying  point 
of  the  small  band  of  philosophic  students  of  which  London  could 
then  boast.  Leslie  Stephen,  Shadworth  Hodgson,  F.  Pollock  (not 
then  the  baronet),  F.  Gurney,  F.  Galton,  myself,  and  others,  were 
often  to  be  found  there.  W.  James  joined  the  circle  the  winter  he 
remained  in  London.  At  this  time  Robertson's  talk,  which  in  spite 
of  an  occasional  smack  of  the  cathedral  manner,  was  distinctly  goodr 
gave  him  prominence  in  such  social  gatherings.  There  was  an 
energy,  an  alertness,  tempered  by  an  Aberdeen  'canniness,'  which 
made  him  impressive,  and  he  often  had  a  happy  way  of  cutting  into  a 
dialectic  tangle  and  extricating  the  point  of  real  importance.  A 
painful  illness  was  soon  to  compel  him  to  retire  from  much  of  this 
old  social  life. 

It  was  necessary  to  say  so  much  about  Robertson's  personality  as. 
well  as  his  teaching  and  editorial  work  in  order  to  explain  these 
Philosophical  Remains.  For  a  glance  at  them  tells  the  reader  that 
their  collection  is  the  outcome  of  a  feeling  of  piety.  But  for  this 
we  certainly  should  not  have  had  reprinted  some  of  the  critical 
notices  which  in  these  days  of  rapid  psychological  advance  already 
look  out  of  date.  The  truth  is,  as  he  more  than  once  confessed  to- 
me, Robertson  was  not  a  ready  writer.  This  indeed  betrays  itself  in 
the  literary  manner,  which,  though  it  has  a  decided  character  and 
certain  good  qualities,  is  apt  to  become  awkward  even  to  the  point 
of  contortion.  The  very  pains-taking  to  be  clear,  to  limit  a  statement 
to  the  dimensions  of  strict  accuracy,  ended  by  destroying  smoothness. 

While  there  were  these  half  mechanical  difficulties  in  the  way  of 
literary  production,  there  was  I  think  another  reason  for  its  paucity. 
There  is  no  evidence  that  Robertson  was  ever  fully  possessed  by  an 
impulse  to  write  a  considerable  philosophical  work.  The  work  on 
which  he  was  supposed,  for  many  years  after  his  appointment  at 
University  College,  to  be  engaged,  was  a  study  of  Hobbes.  His  little 
book,  which  appeared  in  the  'Philosophical  Classics'  series,  into, 
which  the  results  of  these  years'  study  were  compressed,  shows  no» 
doubt  careful  scholarship,  and  close  critical  study  of  his  subject  and 
its  historical  relations.  Yet  it  does  not  I  think  suggest  any  large 


and  important  originality  of  thought.  It  strikes  one  in  reading  these 
Remains  that  Robertson  had  the  freshness  of  view  that  goes  to  make 
a  critical  expositor  and  teacher  rather  than  a  true  constructive  origi- 
nality. As  a  teacher  he  was  never  so  happy  as  when  reading  and 
expounding  some  philosophic  classic  to  one  of  his  small  class  of 
advanced  students.  The  very  fact  that  his  one  book  was  mainly  a 
historical  exposition  seems  to  say  that  his  bent  lay  in  the  direction  of 
philosophic  exegesis  and  of  historical  criticism.  The  same  impres- 
sion is,  I  think,  borne  out  by  the  Remains.  The  best  critical  notices 
seem  to  me  to  be  those  of  works  on  the  history  of  philosophy.  Other 
articles,  not  dealing  directly  with  the  history  of  the  subject,  show  the 
same  tendencies.  Thus  the  excellent  article  on  'Axiom,'  and  in  a 
less  degree  also  the  other  longer  articles  reprinted  from  the  Encyclo- 
pedia Britannica,  viz.,  'Analysis,'  and  'Association  of  Ideas,'  show 
how  Robertson's  strength  lay  in  what  one  may  call  the  expository 
clarification  of  ideas.  The  way  in  which  the  word  'Axiom'  has  come 
to  mean  the  different  things  it  does  is  admirably  traced  out  by  a 
happy  combination  of  accurate  historical  learning  and  logical  co- 
ordinative  power.  These  papers  are  in  their  way  models  of  Encyclo- 
pedia articles.  They  show  the  same  qualities,  accuracy,  perspicacity, 
grasp,  and,  what  is  equally  important,  a  clearly  recognizable  method, 
which  helped  to  make  him  an  eminent  teacher. 

It  is  time,  however,  in  writing  a  notice  of  Robertson's  work,  for 
a  psychological  journal  to  say  something  about  his  work  on 
psychology.  As  the  most  distinguished  pupil  of  Alexander  Bain,  for 
many  years  the  commanding  influence  in  British  psychology,  as  the 
hearer  of  Lotze  and  other  distinguished  Europeans,  Robertson  was 
always  looked  on,  more  than  anything  else,  as  a  psychologist.  And 
this  way  of  regarding  him  was  in  the  main  justified.  He  put  for- 
ward in  an  admirably  clear  and  convincing  manner  the  claims  of  psy- 
chology to  be  the  propsedeutik  among  philosophers'  disciplines.  The 
position  is  made  clear  in  the  introductory  lecture  which  he  gave  on 
his  appointment  to  the  chair  of  University  College,  and  is  made 
still  clearer  in  an  article  on  'Psychology  and  Philosophy,'  published 
in  Mind.  The  establishment  of  this  journal  which,  as  Bain  gen- 
erously allows  in  his  far  too  short  memoir  prefixed  to  the  Remains, 
was  in  considerable  part  Robertson's  work,  was  intended,  as  its  title 
and  its  editorial  preface  clearly  showed,  to  give  fundamental  prom- 
inence to  psychological  work  and  thought,  and  this  intention  was 
never  lost  sight  of.  Although  there  was  no  experimental  psychology 
in  England,  and  the  later  experimental  work  in  America  had  not 
begun,  Robertson  managed  to  get  together  a  good  deal  of  valuable 


contribution  ;  so  that  Mind  will  long  remain  an  important  work  of 
reference  for  psychologists.  His  own  contributions  to  the  journal 
show  that  his  mind  was  fairly  engaged  with  all  the  newer  researches, 
psychological  and  physiological,  which  bear  on  the  understanding  of 
mental  processes.  Here,  however,  one  recognizes  rather  the  skill 
with  which  newer  results  are  brought  into  relation  to  older  ideas  than 
original  contribution,  the  setting  forth  of  new  and  luminous  psycho- 
logical ideas.  Now  and  again  no  doubt  there  is  an  attempt  to  elabo- 
rate a  new  conception,  as  where  in  the  article  on  '  Axiom '  he  seeks 
to  apply  the  muscular  theory  of  space-consciousness  to  the  problem 
of  mathematical  axioms  and  to  show  that  (as  Kant  said  in  his  way) 
by  "  acting  constructively  in  our  experience,  both  of  number  and  of 
form,  we,  in  a  manner,  make  the  ultimate  relations  of  both  to  be 
what  for  us  they  must  be  in  all  circumstances"  (p.  129).  More  am- 
bitious is  the  attempt  to  get  over  the  difficulty  of  the  genesis  of  space- 
consciousness  by  saying  that  we  know  thing  or  object  as  resistant 
before  we  know  extension  or  space,  that  the  successions  of  muscular 
experience  by  which  we  come  to  know  extension,  somehow  get  trans- 
formed into  the  intuitive  of  space  by  being  referred  to  the  more  fund- 
amental object-intuition  (p.  279  ff.).  It  is  not  quite  easy  to  seize 
Robertson's  exact  drift  here.  Much  of  what  he  writes  here  looks  as 
if  he  thought  the  psychologists'  task  was  to  explain  the  objective 
reference  of  a  space-consciousness  already  existent,  rather  than  to 
account  for  the  form  or  structure  of  this  space-consciousness  itself. 
Yet  while  these  contributions  to  psychological  discussion  are  not  as 
impressive  as  one  might  have  expected,  they  are  fresh  and  suggestive, 
and  they  make  one  regret  that  Robertson  did  not  give  a  fuller  state- 
ment of  his  views  on  other  perplexing  points. 

Yet  Robertson's  friends,  at  heart,  will  value  this  volume  as  a  re- 
flection of  the  mind  and,  in  some  respects,  of  the  character  they 
knew  and  valued.  If  it  gives  us  no  striking  contribution  to  the 
field  of  modern  psychological  research,  it  shows  us  the  eager  and  pa- 
tient spirit  resolved  to  track  ideas  to  their  sources  and  their  elements  ; 
it  shows  us  the  born  teacher  to  whom  luminous  apprehension  of  truth 
must  express  itself  in  no  less  luminous  an  exposition.  Such  men  are 
as  great  benefactors  as  the  writers  of  works.  Robertson's  devotion 
to  philosophic  work,  which,  as  Leslie  Stephens'  enthusiastic  letter  tells 
us,  became  almost  heroic,  when  for  years  it  had  to  contend  with 
most  unstable  health  and  bouts  of  prostrating  physical  suffering,  de- 
serves a  permanent  record  in  America  hardly  less  than  in  England. 



Lectures  on  Human  and  Animal  Psychology.  W.  WUNDT.  Translated 
by  J.  E.  Creighton  and  E.  B.  Titchener.  London,  Sonnenshein; 
New  York,  Macmillan.  1894.  Pp.  X-f-454. 

A  few  years  ago  a  new  edition  of  Professor  Wundt's  celebrated 
book  Vorlesungen  iiber  Menschen-und  Thierseele  appeared.  The  first 
edition  was  written  thirty  years  ago  at  a  time  when  the  problems  of 
empirical  psychology  had  just  begun  to  be  realized  in  all  their  sig- 
nificance. Since  that  time  psychology  as  an  experimental  science  has 
greatly  developed  ;  it  has  adopted  and  devised  exact  methods  of 
research  ;  it  has  followed  out  carefully  many  investigations  and 
proved  by  the  results,  that  the  same  mathematical  accuracy,  with 
which  natural  sciences  like  physics  and  astronomy  carry  out  their 
work,  may  be  applied  successfully  to  the  natural  science  of  mind. 
The  necessity  of  a  psychological  way  of  viewing  the  facts  besides  the 
physical  is  in  our  days  universally  acknowledged.  The  new  edition 
of  the  book  mentioned  is  thoroughly  revised  by  the  addition  of  the 
results  of  recent  investigations  and  by  the  omission  of  every  thing 
which  has  not  stood  the  test  of  greater  light.1  In  size  the  book  has 
been  considerably  reduced,  by  dropping  those  discussions  which  have 
now  developed  into  a  certain  independence  as  special  sciences,  such 
as  Social  Psychology.  The  book  is  arranged  in  thirty  lectures,  the 
first  thirteen  treating  Sensation  and  Presentation.  In  Lects.  14  to 
20,  the  Feelings  and  their  Relations,  the  Theories  of  Association  and 
Apperception  are  treated.  The  last  part  of  the  book,  Lects.  21  to 
30,  deals  with  the  more  complicated  problems  of  animal  and  human 
psychical  life:  Mentality  of  Higher  Animals,  Development  of  Intel- 
lectual Functions,  Instinctive  and  Voluntary  Actions,  Mental  Dis- 
turbances, Dreams,  the  Hypnotic  and  Posthypnotic  phenomena,  etc., 
closing  with  a  discussion  of  the  ultimate  questions  of  psychology 
and  their  philosophical  bearing. 

Messrs.  Creighton  and  Titchener  are  fortunate  in  having  fur- 
nished us  with  a  carefully  prepared  and  excellent  translation  of  this 
book  into  English  ;  and  many  who  wish  to  become  acquainted  with 
the  ideas  of  this  German  philosopher,  whose  efforts  have  brought 
about  such  wonderful  advancement  of  psychological  science,  will  en- 
tertain a  sense  of  gratitude  to  the  translators  for  saving  them  the 
trouble  of  seeking  their  way  directly  and  in  the  original  language 
through  the  more  difficult  books  of  the  same  author. 


'A  great  improvement  is  also  seen  in  the  addition  of  many  good  illustrations. 


Primer  of  Psychology.     By  G.  T.  LADD.     New  York,  Charles  Scrib- 
ner's  Sons,  1894.     Pp.  IX  -f-  224. 

Professor  Ladd's  Primer  is  like  his  other  books  in  that  it  is  care- 
fully written,  systematic,  and  embodies  the  latest  results  of  psycho- 
logical research.  It  wisely  leaves  out  metaphysical  discussion, 
confining  itself  to  psychology  proper,  a  feature  of  especial  impor- 
tance in  view  of  the  class  of  readers  to  which  it  is  primarily 
addressed.  Its  style  is  somewhat  unequal,  being  in  parts  quite 
simple  and  adapted  to  immature  students,  and  in  parts  rather 
burdened  with  scholastic  terms  which  might,  I  think,  have  been 
avoided.  It  is  not,  however,  with  the  use  of  technical  terms  that  I 
chiefly  quarrel.  One  may  use  a  rather  large  number  of  such  terms 
and  yet  write  in  a  style  which  is  plain,  easy,  and  entertaining.  A 
book  which  bears  the  title  of  ' Primer'  should  be  written  in  such  a 
style.  It  should  be  fresh  and  unstilted,  free  from  all  flavor  of  schol- 
asticism,— it  should  not  smack  of  the  professor's  chair.  Such 
books  are  not  easy  to  write.  They  can  not  readily  be  thrown  off 
as  "a  recreation  between  two  much  more  bulky  and  serious  pieces 
of  work."  They  require  great  skill,  not  only  in  the  selection  of 
material,  but  also  in  the  exposition  of  the  material  selected.  They 
call  for  a  rare  insight  into  and  a  rare  sympathy  with  the  ways  of 
thinking  of  young  and  immature  minds,  so  easily  repelled  by  what  is 
'dry,'  and  discouraged  from  further  effort.  Learning  may  be 
rather  a  hindrance  than  a  help  in  the  writing  of  such  books.  It  may 
separate  one  too  far  from  the  class  of  readers  one  wishes  to  reach. 

In  the  present  instance  I  cannot  but  think  that  the  above  criti- 
cism may  with  justice  be  applied.  I  do  not  mean  to  make  the 
criticism  at  all  a  severe  one,  for  Professor  Ladd's  book  is  usually 
clear  and  is  well  arranged.  I  should  not  hesitate  to  use  the 
'Primer'  with  a  class  of  young  people.  But  I  have  felt  in  reading 
it  that  it  is  dry,  and  that  the  writer  lacks  that  peculiar  gift — a  very 
rare  gift  it  is — of  writing  successfully  for  the  young.  To  do  this  one 
must  above  all  be  fresh  and  simple  and  natural.  One  must  forget 
one's  learning,  and  with  it  the  turns  of  phrase  which  are  out  of 
place  in  the  'Elements  of  Physiological  Psychology'  and  the 
'Introduction  to  Philosophy.'  When  one  spends  one's  life  among 
such,  it  is,  of  course,  not  easy  to  forget  them. 

Over  the  contents  of  the  book  I  need  not  linger,  as  Professor 
Ladd's  opinions  are  well  known.  I  wish  that  in  the  chapter  on  feel- 
ing he  had  indicated  more  clearly  the  ambiguity  of  the  word. 
Certainly  the  impossibility  of  describing  what  is  meant  by  feeling 
(P*  53)  cannot  refer  to  the  complex  experiences  to  which  the  word  is 


applied  a  little  later  (p.  56).  We  can  at  least  point  out,  as  Pro- 
fessor James  has  so  well  done,  some  of  the  elements  which  enter 
into  these.  Such  a  pointing  out  of  the  elements  in  a  complex  is 
what  constitutes  description  of  a  thing  seen,  though,  in  this 
latter  case,  the  analysis  is  one  more  readily  made.  Again,  it  does 
not  seem  to  me  likely  to  aid  one  in  clearing  up  the  psychology  of 
memory  to  state  that  "  every  act  of  memory  with  recognition 
transcends  the  present,  and  connects  the  present  into  a  known  real 
unity  with  the  past ; "  and,  having  thus  stared  the  difficulty  boldly 
in  the  face,  to  pass  on  with  the  remark  that  this  is  one  of  the  pro- 
foundest  of  all  mysteries.  The  mystery  is,  I  think,  not  psychologi- 
cal, but,  if  it  exist  at  all,  epistemological.  In  psychology  we  are 
concerned  only  with  the  question,  "What  mental  elements  are 
actually  present  in  a  given  mind  when  it  recognizes  something?" 
These  elements  we  may  not  be  able  to  enumerate,  and  in  so  far  we 
may  call  them  mysterious;  but  when  the  problem  is  stated  psycho- 
logically it  does  not,  I  think,  present  so  hopeless  an  aspect  as  it  does 
when  stated  as  it  is  by  Professor  Ladd. 

In  looking  over  the  above  I  find  I  have  made  my  criticism  more 
negative  than  I  had  intended.  I  have  not  dwelt  upon  the  merits  of 
the  'Primer'  as  much  as  I  have  upon  what  appear  to  me  its  short- 
comings. It  was  perhaps  as  well  to  do  this,  for  it  goes  without 
saying  that  a  new  book  by  Professor  Ladd  should  have  the  strong 
points  which  characterize  his  other  books.  The  author  has  been  too 
long  in  the  field,  and  is  too  well  known,  to  make  it  necessary  to 
praise  him.  G.  S.  F. 

The  Elements  of  Metaphysics.  PAUL  DEUSSEN.  Translated  from  the 
Second  Edition  by  C.  M.  Duff.  London  and  New  York,  Mac- 
millan  &  Co.  Pp.  XXIV  +  337. 

Dr.  Deussen,  the  author  of  the  Elements,  has  been  known  for  years 
as  an  enthusiastic  student  of  Indian  Philosophy  and  a  representative 
of  that  school  of  Orientalists  who  reject  the  negative  conceptions 
that  have  been  historically  associated  with  Buddhism  and  follow 
Cankara  as  the  true  interpreter  of  Hindu  Metaphysics.  Dr.  Deussen's 
own  philosophical  position  is  Kanto-Schopenhauerian.  Kant  he  asserts 
was  the  first  discoverer  of  the  true  principle  of  philosophy,  while 
Schopenhauer  alone  has  developed  that  principle  truly  and  said  the 
last  word  in  metaphysics.  This  being  the  author's  faith  his  work  is 
on  the  whole  a  pretty  faithful  reproduction  of  the  philosophy  of  these 



Dr.  Deussen  starts  with  a  distinction  between  Science  and  Philo- 
sophy. The  standpoint  of  science  is  empirical  and  materialistic. 
Materialism  can  be  overcome  only  in  the  transcendental  standpoint 
of  philosophy  which  regards  the  world  under  the  dual  Kantian 
categories  of  phenomena  and  things  in  themselves.  This  Kantian 
distinction  has  been  translated  by  Schopenhauer  into  corresponding 
subjective  terms,  intellect  or  reason,  and  will.  The  world  is  dual, 
it  is  a  world  of  intellect  and  a  world  of  will.  Now,  the  intellect 
whose  innate  forms  are  space,  time  and  causality  is  a  purely  phe- 
nomenal faculty  through  which  the  will  projects  a  world  in  space  and 
time  and  causal  connection.  But  this  world  is  appearance  and  not 
reality.  The  intellect  is  material  in  its  objective  constitution,  being 
identical  with  the  brain.  But  this  whole  world  of  the  intellect  is  ap- 
pearance and  must  be  transcended  in  order  that  the  world  of  reality 
may  be  reached. 

The  thing  in  itself,  or  real,  is  the  will  whose  central  motive  is  the 
striving  for  life  or  self-realization.  This  striving  of  will  expresses 
itself  as  the  Platonic  ideas  in  the  physical  forces  of  the  world,  thus 
grounding  the  phenomenal  world  in  its  deeper  dynamic  aspect.  Dr. 
Deussen  makes  a  tripartite  division  of  transcendental  philosophy  into 
the  metaphysics  of  nature,  of  the  beautiful,  and  of  morality.  The 
main  ideas  of  the  first  division  have  been  given  above.  In  nature 
which  also  includes  the  ordinary  phenomena  of  man,  the  will  does 
not  manifest  its  archetypes  as  they  are  in  themselves,  in  their  'un- 
spoiled form  and  beauty,'  but  only  an  adumbration  of  these.  For 
the  more  adequate  expression  we  must  pass  first  to  the  Metaphysics 
of  the  Beautiful  and  finally  to  the  Metaphysics  of  Morality.  Nature 
is  the  expression  of  the  affirmation  of  the  will  to  life  which  is  em- 
pirical, individual,  egoistic.  It  can  be  transcended  only  by  denial 
through  which  alone  is  a  door  opened  into  the  heart  of  reality.  Now, 
art  in  its  feeling  for  the  beautiful  which  Kant  defines  as  a  *  disinter- 
ested delight,'  enters  this  door  through  a  kind  of  self-forgetting  of 
the  will.  The  will  is  affirmative  in  its  nature  and  does  not  care  for 
things  in  themselves,  but  only  as  they  affect  it.  But  in  the  art-feel- 
ing this  egoism  drops  temporarily  out  of  sight  and  the  will  experi- 
ences a  delight  in  that  which  has  no  reference  to  itself.  This  is  a 
contradiction  which  art  cannot  explain  and  we  are  led  on  to  morality 
for  its  solution.  It  is  only  in  morality  and  religion  that  the  phenom- 
enal world  and  its  contradictions  are  actually  transcended. 

Dr.  Deussen's  treatment  of  the  metaphysics  of  morality  embraces 
the  following  essential  points,  (i)  The  tripartite  classification  of 
the  will-functions  under  the  dual  categories,  Physics  and  Metaphysics, 


giving  the  following: — Thinking  as  empirical  and  transcendental; 
Perceiving  as  individual  and  aesthetic;  Acting  as  affirming  and  deny- 
ing; the  metaphysical  exercise  of  these  functions  giving  respectively, 
Philosophy,  Art,  Religion.  (2)  The  principle  of  sin  and  evil  which 
is  egoistic  affirmation.  This  is  the  root  of  both  sin  and  suffering. 
(3)  The  Principle  of  Morality  which  is  denial.  Salvation  from  sin 
and  suffering  only  comes  through  the  denial  of  the  will  to  life.  (4) 
The  way  of  achieving  this  self-denial  of  will.  This  includes,  (a)  the 
classification  of  springs  of  action  arising  from  Affirmation  and  Denial; 
from  the  former  malice  and  egoism,  representing  Paganisms;  from  the 
latter,  compassion  and  asceticism,  being  the  dominating  motives  of 
Christianity;  (b)  the  two  paths  to  self-denial,  sympathy  and  suffer- 
ing; (c)  also  the  steps  by  which  denial  is  achieved,  justice,  love,  as- 
ceticism. (5)  The  goal  of  morality  which  may  be  expressed  in  various 
ways  as  the  Kingdom  of  Heaven,  Blessedness,  Peace  that  passeth 
understanding,  Nirvana.  This  state,  as  Deussen  conceives  it,  is 
reached  by  a  transcendence  of  individuality,  but  it  is  not  purely 
negative.  It  is  a  state  of  positive  experience  and  the  denial  itself 
cannot,  therefore,  be  absolute. 

Here,  I  think,  we  strike  a  crucial  point  in  the  metaphysics  which 
Deussen  represents.  It  seeks  to  make  denial  the  last  word  in  re- 
ligious philosophy.  But  it  manifestly  is  not  the  last  word  if  the 
goal,  the  kingdom  of  heaven,  nirvana,  is  not  purely  negative.  In 
morality  we  strike  a  dualism  between  a  lower  and  a  higher  self,  as  a 
basal  fact.  In  the  light  of  this,  egoism  becomes  the  affirmation  of 
the  lower  self.  But  in  its  relation  to  the  higher  self  it  is  denial  and 
what  the  metaphysics  which  Deussen  represents,  calls  denial,  is  in 
truth  the  denial  of  denial  and  is  thus  a  higher  affirmation.  I  do  not 
see  how  the  last  word  of  morality  and  religion  can  be  anything  else 
than  affirmation,  an  affirmation  in  which  the  highest  self  is  realized. 

From  the  psychological  point  of  view  Deussen's  book  possesses 
several  points  of  interest.  In  common  with  the  writers  of  his  school 
he  has  done  service  to  psychology  in  the  emphasis  he  places  upon  the 
will.  But  just  here,  I  think,  we  strike  the  greatest  psychological  de- 
fect of  the  school  ;  its  tendency  to  divorce  too  completely  the  intel- 
lect from  the  will.  The  inevitable  result  of  this  is  a  shallow  con- 
ception of  the  intellect  on  the  one  hand  and  the  identification  of  will 
with  blind  instinct,  on  the  other.  Between  the  two  the  teleological 
character  of  consciousness  is  lost  sight  of  or  inadequately  treated. 
Again  while  Dr.  Deussen's  work  is  rich  in  fragments  of  psychological 
analysis,  it  is  almost  totally  lacking  in  dynamic  and  genetic  concep- 
tions. Perhaps  this  is  an  unfair  criticism  to  make  on  a  work  in  met- 

1 84  ETHICAL. 

aphysics.  But  I  think  our  whole  metaphysical  conception  of  the  re- 
lation of  phenomena  to  an  absolute  ground,  or,  in  Kantian  phrase, 
to  things  in  themselves,  will  be  profoundly  affected  by  our  psycho- 
logical faith  on  this  point.  If  we  admit  the  genetic  idea  in  psy- 
chology our  whole  world  will  become  impenetrated  with  dynamism 
and  it  will  no  longer  be  possible  to  treat  the  phenomenal  as  mere  ap- 

But  enough  of  criticism.  Dr.  Deussen's  metaphysics  is  one  of 
the  most  valuable  of  the  many  works  that  have  been  appearing  lately 
in  English.  And  its  English  dress  is  in  every  way  worthy  of  it  and 
creditable  to  the  translator.  It  is  a  book  that  no  one  can  read 
seriously  without  getting  rich  suggestions  and  having  his  spiritual  in- 
tuition greatly  quickened.  And  the  fine  religious  spirit  that  per- 
vades it  will  commend  it  to  every  one  who  values  the  religious  aspect 
of  philosophy.  A.  T.  ORMOND. 



The  Elements  of  Ethics.     J.  H.  HYSLOP.     New  York,  Charles  Scrib- 
ner's  Sons,  1895.     Pp.  VII.,  476. 

Dr.  Hyslop's  book  might  appropriately  be  entitled  an  analytic  of 
Logical  Conceptions.  Its  purpose  is  critical  and  analytic  rather  than 
constructive.  The  work  has  been  done  with  that  thoroughness  and 
detail  which  we  would  expect  from  a  man  of  Dr.  Hyslop's  ability  and 
logical  equipment. 

After  defining  ethics  and  considering  the  sense  in  which  it  is  a 
science,  and  its  relations  to  other  sciences,  in  his  introduction,  the 
author  gives  in  Chapter  II  a  very  interesting  digest  of  the  history  of 
ethical  thought  in  ancient,  mediaeval  and  modern  times  down  to 
Hume.  This  is  valuable  in  itself  and  a  very  good  Introduction  to 
the  discussions  which  follow.  Chapter  III  is  devoted  to  defining 
terms  and  stating  and  defining  the  elements  entering  into  the  ethical 
problem.  In  chapter  IV  on  the  Freedom  of  the  Will,  the  most  con- 
spicuously able  chapter  in  the  book,  Dr.  Hyslop  distinguishes  the 
various  species  of  freedom,  identifies  moral  freedom  with  velleity  or 
power  of  alternative  choice,  defends  it  against  necessitarian  objec- 
tion and  shows  how  man's  physiological  mechanism,  through  its 
function  of  inhibition,  adapts  him  to  the  exercise  of  free  choice  and 
volition.  The  bearing  of  heredity  and  environment  and  the  general 
question  of  motives  are  treated  with  ability  and  discrimination.  Dr. 
Hyslop  rejects  indeterminism  and  identifies  freedomism  with  the 


species  of  determinism  which  recognizes  the  possibility  of  alternative 
choice.     The  discussion  on  freedom  prepares  the  way  for  a  discrim- 
inating analysis  of  Responsibility  and   Punishment  in   Chapter  V. 
Chapters  VI  and  VII  treat  of  the  Nature  and  Origin  of  Conscience. 
The  analysis  of  conscience  is  interesting  but  need  not  delay  us.     In 
his  chapter  on  the  Origin  of  Conscience  Dr.  Hyslop  discusses  nativism 
and  empiricism,  and  their  various  subdivisions.    He  is  a  nativist  and 
yet  gives  generous  recognition   to   empiricism  in  both  its  individ- 
ualistic and  evolutionary  forms.     Nativistic  theories  include  three 
species,  Theism,  Naturalism  and  Intuitionism.     Distinguishing  two 
forms  of  Intuitionism,  general  and  special,  Dr.  Hyslop  accepts  the 
former   which    affirms   an  original   power  distinguishing  right  and 
wrong,  but  not  the  right  and  wrong  of  particular  acts,  as  the  theory 
that  is  best  borne  out  by  the  facts.     This  enables  him  to  admit  the 
claims  of  empiricism  to  a  large  extent  and  to  recognize  a  wide  sphere 
for  evolution  in  developing  morality  out  of  its  elements.     The  only 
concept  of  evolution  which  Dr.  Hyslop  rejects  is  that  which  ascribes 
to  it  a  creative  function  and  claims  that  morality  can  be  developed 
out  of  conditions  that  contain  none  of  it.     From  this  point  of  view 
the  theories  of  Darwin  and  Spencer  are  criticised  and  the  position 
is  combatted  that  the    theory  of  evolution  necessitates  any  radical 
reconstruction  of  ethical  theory.     In  Chapter  VIII,  theories  of  the 
nature  of  morality  are  classified  and  discussed.     Adopting  a  classifi- 
cation based  on  the  end  or  summum  bonum.  Dr.  Hyslop  divides  theories 
generally  into  Hedonism  and  Moralism.     The  Hedonistic  theories 
agree  in  making  pleasure  or  happiness  the  moral  end  and  divide  into 
Egoistic  Hedonism  and  Utilitarianism.     Moralism  sets  either  excel- 
lence or  duty  as  the  end  and  this  divides  into  Perfectionism  and 
Formalism  or,  as  some  writers  call  it,  Rigorism.     A  careful  analysis 
of  these  conceptions  of  the  end  reveals  elements  of  value  in  them  all 
and  supplies  the  data  for  a  more  adequate  synthesis.     The  last  two 
chapters,   IX  and   X,   discuss  the    important  topics,    Morality  and 
Religion,  and  the  Theory  of  Rights  and  Duties. 

The  merits  of  Dr.  Hyslop's  book  are  so  great  as  to  make  criticism 
seem  almost  impertinent.  I  venture,  however,  to  note  several 
points  on  which  I  think  a  little  more  explicitness  would  be  desirable. 
First,  regarding  freedom.  Dr.  Hyslop  appears  to  limit  the  power 
of  alternative  choice  to  means.  But  is  there  not  also  a  choice  of 
ends,  and  is  not  this  more  of  the  essence  of  freedom  than  the  mere 
choice  of  means  ?  If  our  nature  determines  our  end  must  it  not 
supply  dual  alternatives  for  choice  between  higher  and  lower  ends  ? 
Again,  gradations  of  freedom  are  recognized  and  Dr.  Hyslop 

1 86  ETHICAL. 

is  willing  to  admit  that  some  people  may  have  very  little 
of  it.  Does  he  mean  velleity,  and  if  so  must  he  not  recognize  a 
more  vital  connection  between  heredity  and  freedom  than  he  seems 
willing  to  admit.  Secondly,  it  seems  to  me,  and  will  perhaps  strike 
others  in  the  same  way,  that  Dr.  Hyslop  has  carried  the  legitimate 
distinction  between  the  questions  of  origin  and  validity  so  far  as 
to  lose  sight,  partially,  of  the  vital  bearing  which  theories  of  origin 
must  have  on  questions  of  validity.  In  spite  of  the  logical  separ- 
ation, our  psychogeny  will  determine  largely  the  complexion  of  our 
metaphysics.  And  in  this  connection  it  seems  to  me  that  evolu- 
tion has  a  more  vital  relation  to  ethical  theory  than  Dr.  Hyslop 
allows  to  it  in  his  discussion.  Lastly,  respecting  the  relation  of 
morality  and  religion,  while  agreeing  with  Dr.  Hyslop's  major 
proposition  that  the  validity  of  moral  science  is  not  to  be  staked 
on  the  acceptance  of  any  religious  postulate,  and  with  nearly  all 
that  is  said  in  connection  with  it,  I  still  feel  that  the  religious 
thinker  will  have  some  grounds,  in  view  of  the  whole  discussion,  for 
thinking  that  the  problem  has  not  been  treated  with  sufficient  in- 
sight. He  will  be  likely  to  think  that  religion  has  been  pushed  a 
little  too  much  to  one  side,  and  that  just  as  it  is  possible  to  recognize 
the  full  right  and  independence  of  science  in  the  sphere  of  its  own 
categories,  and  yet  to  subsume  it  under  the  categories  of  meta- 
physics, so  in  the  case  of  religion  it  is  possible  to  recognize  the  full 
right  and  independence  of  moral  science,  while  at  the  same  time  sub- 
suming it  under  the  categories  of  religion.  The  religious  thinker 
will  be  disposed  to  regard  the  relation  as  one  rather  of  comprehen- 
sion and  harmony,  than  of  exclusion  and  mutual  conflict. 

But  the  faults  of  Dr.  Hyslop's  book  are  few  compared  with  its 
merits.  I  feel  under  a  great  debt  of  personal  obligation  to  the 
author  for  his  masterly  and  luminous  analysis.  For  the  task  that  Dr. 
Hyslop  has  performed  there  was  great  need  in  this  country  and  the 
work  has  been  thoroughly  done.  His  book  is  the  most  notable  of 
recent  contributions  to  the  science,  and  will  give  him  a  front  rank 
among  ethical  thinkers.  It  will  also  tend  to  raise  the  plane  of 
ethical  discussion  in  this  country,  and  to  put  the  problems  of 
morality  in  a  position  where  they  can  be  more  sharply  defined  and 
more  intelligently  treated.  A.  T.  ORMOND. 


Johnson's  Universal  Cyclopaedia.     Vols.  I-V  (A — Mozambique).      New 
York,  Johnson  Co.,  1894. 

The  striking  feature  of  the  philosophic  content  of  this  Cyclopaedia 
compared,  not  simply  with  former  editions  of  itself,  but  also  with 


other  cyclopaedias,  is  the  much  more  adequate  attention  given  to 
psychological  topics.  This  may  not  unreasonably  be  attributed,  I 
suppose,  to  the  presence  among  its  editors  of  Professor  Baldwin; 
just  as  the  editorial  care  of  Dr.  Harris  had  previously  made  the 
metaphysical  side  of  philosophy  more  prominent  in  Johnson's  than 
in  any  other  save  the  Britannica.  There  seems  to  be  particularly  good 
reason  for  ascribing  the  difference  to  the  interest  of  Prof.  Baldwin 
in  the  fact  that  it  is  only  in  the  fourth  and  fifth  volumes,  after  Prof. 
Baldwin  is  well  installed  in  the  editorial  chair,  that  the  psychological 
articles  become  numerous.  Some  of  the  psychological  topics  which 
are  so  unfortunate  as  to  begin  with  A  or  B,  are  in  quite  striking  con- 
trast to  the  accuracy  and  fullness  of  the  later  articles.  The  article 
on  Association  of  Ideas,  for  example,  gives  a  fair  descriptive  state- 
ment, but  is  quite  innocent  of  modern  problems  and  methods,  to  say 
nothing  of  results.  In  contrast  with  the  definitely  experimental  tone 
pervading  the  later  articles,  it  is  somewhat  startling  to  read  regard- 
ing association,  that  the  search  for  a  physiological  solution  is  in 
vain,  and  to  find  the  following  proposition  set  forth  as  an  explana- 
tion: "This  wonderful  power  of  the  human  mind  is  part  of  the  per- 
fection which  it  owes  to  the  Great  Being  who  is  its  author." 

The  letters  G,  H  and  /  are  fortunately  very  rich  in  psychological 
captions  and  the  comparative  barrenness  of  the  earlier  pages  is  more 
than  made  good.  I  know  of  no  better  way  to  give  an  idea  of  the 
variety  of  topics  treated  than  to  give  a  running  list  of  the  more 
important  subjects:  Genetic  Psychology,  Genius,  Habit,  Hedonism, 
Hypnotism,  Ideal  Feelings  (Emotion),  Ideals,  Illusion,  Imagination, 
Imitation,  Impulse,  Innervation,  Instinct,  and  Insanity,  all  by  Pro- 
fessor Baldwin;  Generalization,  Hegel,  Hindu  Philosophy,  Idea, 
Idealism,  Identity,  Immortality,  Infinite,  by  Dr.  Harris,  and  Intui- 
tionalism, by  the  present  writer.  The  article  on  Histology  by  Dr. 
Piersol  should  also  be  mentioned.  In  general,  it  may  be  noted  that 
the  neurological  side  is  quite  carefully  looked  after. 

To  go  into  as  much  detail  regarding  all  the  letters  would  render 
this  notice  a  catalogue,  not  a  review,  but  the  articles  on  Localization 
(in  space  and  of  brain  functions)  and  upon  Motive  by  Professor 
Baldwin,  and  that  by  Dr.  Cattell  upon  memory  should  be  noted.  It 
is  in  no  way  invidious  to  any  of  the  other  articles  to  say  that  the 
article  upon  memory  is  in  respect  to  its  objectivity,  lucidity  and 
presentation  of  current  scientific  problems  and  method,  a  model  of 
what  cyclopaedia  information  should  be. 

Several  of  Professor  Baldwin's  articles  seem  to  me  a  distinct  ad- 
vance upon  his  own  statement  of  the  same  subject  in  his  Psychology. 

1 88  ETHICAL. 

The  idea  is  more  definitely  put,  and  the  style  more  precise.  There 
are  many  of  these  articles  to  which  not  only  the  '  general  reader,' 
but  the  psychological  specialist  will  turn  with  interest,  and,  judging 
from  my  own  case  (if  I  may  venture  for  the  nonce  to  pose  as  a  spe- 
cialist) with  profit.  The  article,  for  example,  on  impulse  is  highly 
suggestive  ;  the  reference  of  impulse  to  the  central  apparatus  as 
representing  the  growth  of  the  whole  system,  rather  than  to  a  specific 
stimulus,  appears  to  be  a  very  decided  advance  upon  previous  efforts 
to  discriminate  impulse  from  reflex-action.  The  article  upon  imita- 
tion is  excellent,  as  we  should  expect  from  one  who  has  made  the 
psychology  of  that  subject  peculiarly  his  own.  The  article  upon 
emotion  (under  the  caption  of  Ideal  Feeling)  is  admirable,  save  the  at- 
tempt to  state  the  theories  offered  in  explanation.  Of  course  not 
everything  can  be  given  in  such  an  account  ;  and  yet  surely,  the 
contribution  of  James-Lange  is  too  important,  whether  accepted  or 
rejected,  to  be  so  briefly  summed  up.  The  attempt  of  Darwin  to 
explain  emotional  expressions  might  well  have  received  some  at- 
tention. The  article  on  Imagination  would  have  been  helped  by 
reference  to  the  concrete  investigations  in  imagery;  but  aside  from 
that  it  is  well  done.  (There  is  a  heading  Generic  Image,  referring  one 
to  image,  but  the  latter  does  not  appear  as  a  distinct  topic  ;  it  may 
also  be  noted  in  this  connection  that  a  q.  v.  to  Insistent  Ideas  is  found 
in  the  article  upon  Illusion,  but  no  such  caption  occurs.)  The  article 
upon  Genetic  Psychology  is  too  short  to  give  Prof.  Baldwin  a  fair 
opportunity,  but  fortunately  we  shall  soon  have  a  chance  to  read  a 
fuller  expression  of  his  views.  This  present  account  is  clear  and 
full  within  its  limits.  But  I  wonder  when  I  read  the  following  : 
"Suppose  we  say,  with  many  psychologists,  that  volition  is  neces- 
sary to  all  adaptive  muscular  efforts  ;  an  appeal  to  the  child  shows 
us  so  many  facts  to  the  contrary  that  we  are  able  to  bring  genetic 
psychology  to  refute  the  position."  I  do  not  wonder  at  Prof.  Bald- 
win's saying  this  ;  on  the  contrary,  it  is  true  enough  to  immediate 
facts.  But  I  wonder  if  the  final  outcome  of  the  appeal  to  the  child 
will  not  be  to  change  the  ready-made  concept  of  volition  which 
serves  as  the  standard  in  the  above  instance,  and  to  generalize  the 
idea  of  volition  by  making  it  equivalent  to  all  acquired  coordination. 
However,  I  might  go  on  indefinitely  commenting  upon  points  of  in- 
terest. I  shall  fulfill  my  duty  better  if  I  divert  the  attention  both  of 
psychologists  and  the  general  public  to  the  unusually  full  and  sug- 
gestive discussion  of  psychological  topics  to  be  found  in  this  last 
edition  of  Johnson's  cyclopaedia.  Teachers  will  find  its  great  value 
for  reference  further  increased  by  the  generally  good  and  up-to-date 
bibliographies.  J.  D. 



From  the  Greeks  to  Darwin.     H.  F.  OSBORN.      Columbia  University 

Biological  Series,  No.  i.     New  York  and  London.     Macmillan, 

1894.     Pp.  X+259. 
Amphioxas  and  the  Ancestry  of  the  Vertebrates.    A.  WILLEY.    Columbia 

University  Biological   Series,   No.    2.     New  York  and  London. 

Macmillan,  1894.     Pp.  XIV -f  316. 

In  these  two  volumes  we  have  the  beginning  of  a  biological  series 
which  promises  to  be  of  importance  for  psychologists,  since  the  topics 
of  these  and  other  volumes  announced  are  the  broader  and  more 
philosophical  ones  in  the  settlement  of  which  the  theory  of  the 
mental  life  is  also  involved.  Prof.  Osborn  traces  the  history  of  the 
evolution  idea  before  Darwin  in  an  interesting  way  and  with  great 
perspicuity  of  style.  From  the  psychologist's  point  of  view  more 
reference  to  mental  development  might  possibly  have  been  made  ; 
and  yet  it  may  be  that  the  author  found  that  his  intimations  of  Dar- 
winism before  Darwin  were  not  capable  of  such  a  reference.  The 
book  of  Dr.  Willey  deals  with  the  very  vital  question  of  the  ancestry 
of  the  vertebrates;  and  while  the  conclusions  upon  the  broader  matters 
of  descent  are  not  large,  still  psychologists  should  know  many  more 
facts  than  they  do  of  just  the  sifted  kind  which  are  here  given.  Our 
space  only  allows  us  to  recommend  these  books,  not  on  our  own  au- 
thority indeed,  but  as  already  approved  by  the  biological  authorities 
to  whom  we  must  defer. 

The  Factors  in  Organic  Evolution.     D.   S.   JORDAN.      Boston,   Ginn  & 

Co.,  1894.      Pp.  V+I49. 

It  is  difficult  to  see  what  purpose  this  volume  can  serve.  Dr. 
Jordan  prints  a  great  mass  of  catch-sentences,  clauses,  and  words 
under  the  main  headings  of  current  evolution  thought,  sometimes 
calling  upon  his  colleagues  to  treat  special  topics  in  the  same  brief 
and  unsuggestive  way.  It  is  possible,  of  course,  that  the  author 
may  find  such  a  «  syllabus '  useful  in  the  hands  of  his  classes,  while 
he  himself  fills  out  the  outline  by  lecturing.  But  why  he  should  pub- 
lish it — why  ?  Those  readers  who  know  what  the  terms  and  catch- 
words mean,  and  know  intelligently,  do  not  need  to  be  reminded  of 
the  categories  of  the  subject  ;  and  those  who  do  not,  are  not  taught. 
Possibly  a  few  teachers  who  lack  time  to  plan  their  own  lectures 
may  follow  the  author's  skeleton.  The  peculiar  way  of  printing  the 
book  with  double  blank  pages  throughout  would  seem  to  indicate 
that  this  is  the  writer's  idea.  But  time-limits  and  sense-limits  in 
different  schools  and  colleges  are  so  different  that  independent  men 
will  probably  prefer  to  do  their  own  schematization. 


Illustrated  Dictionary  of  Medicine,  Biology,  and  Allied  Sciences.     G.  M. 

GOULD.  Philadelphia,  Blakiston,  1894.  Pp.  XV 4-1633. 
The  '  Dictionary '  falls  midway  between  two  others  which  psy- 
chologists, who  can  afford  them  all,  ought  to  have  :  One  is  Tuke's 
Dictionary  of  Psychological  Medicine,  and  the  other  is  Quain's  Medical 
Dictionary  (2d  ed.  1894).  Gould's  book  is  more  properly  a  dictionary, 
while  the  others  are  more  properly  encyclopedias.  As  a  dictionary, 
Gould's  work  defines,  in  a  reliable  way,  the  terms  of  the  whole  group 
of  cognate  branches  which  touch  upon  biology  and  ought  to  serve  a 
very  useful  purpose  to  psychologists,  especially  in  these  days  when 
pathology,  on  one  side,  and  development  on  the  other,  are  bringing 
medicine  and  biology  into  such  close  touch  with  our  own  proper 
study.  The  present  reviewer  is  not  competent  to  criticise  the  def- 
initions except  as  they  are  in  his  field  ;  but  judging  from  the  sample 
topics  in  which  he  feels  at  home,  and  from  the  auspices  under  which 
the  work  appears,  it  seems  altogether  reliable.  It  is  a  pity  more 
terms  were  not  drawn  from  psychology  for  the  benefit  of  the  phys- 
icians and  biologists  who  will  be  the  main  buyers  ;  for  they  need  in- 
struction in  general  psychology. 

Epitome  of  the  Synthetic  Philosophy.    F.  H.  COLLINS.    London,  Williams 

and  Norgate,  1894.  3d  ed.  Pp.  XlX-f  639. 
The  original  *  epitome '  by  Mr.  Collins  is  now  so  well  known  that 
we  need  only  call  attention  to  this  late  edition.  Its  advance  on  the 
earlier  editions  is  of  course  apparent,  since  it  includes  Mr.  Spencer's 
last  publications.  The  compiler  indicates  just  what  the  addition  is 
in  these  words  :  "By  Mr.  Spencer's  kind  permission  I  am  enabled 
to  include  in  this  edition  an  abridgment  to  one-tenth  (the  propor- 
tion which  holds  all  the  way  through)  of  his  recent  Principles  of  Ethics. 
The  present  volume  thus  represents  in  miniature  the  whole  of  The 
Synthetic  Philosophy  at  present  published." 

J.  M.  B. 


Notes  on  the  Development  of  a  Child.  M.  W.  SHINN.  Part  II.  Uni- 
versity of  California  Studies.  Vol.  I,  Berkeley,  1894.  Pp. 

This  is  the  second  installment  of  Miss  Shinn's  valuable  observa- 
tions on  her  little  niece.  The  paging  is  continuous  through  the 
two  parts,  making  a  total  so  far  of  178  large  pamphlet  pages.  The 
notes  on  the  sense  of  sight  are  brought  to  a  close  by  a  chapter  on 
*  Sight  in  the  Third  Year,'  then  Hearing,  the  Dermal  Senses,  Taste 


and  Smell  are  treated.  By  the  end  of  the  second  year  the  discrim- 
ination of  colors  was  practically  complete,  but  no  aesthetic  interest 
in  color-arrangements  was  apparent  even  in  the  third  year.  The 
child  seemed,  however,  to  be  conscious  of  the  defects  in  her 
attempts  at  drawing.  Sensitiveness  to  sounds  seemed  different  at 
different  times,  even  apart  from  the  effects  of  fatigue.  Her  atten- 
tion was  attracted  by  the  experience  of  '  double  touch '  (the  hands 
touching  each  other)  on  the  64th  day.  Sensibility  to  pain  through 
hurts  or  extremes  of  temperature  was  very  low  during  the  first  two 
months.  "  Taste  at  no  time  played  as  large  a  part  among  the 
child's  interests,"  as  the  author  expected.  "To  see  others  eating  a 
favorite  food  was  often  desired  as  a  substitute  for  eating  it  herself." 
If  this  comparative  indifference  to  tastes  was  due  (as  the  author 
seems  to  think)  largely  to  training,  it  seems  to  me  that  a  point  is 
suggested  here  of  the  very  highest  pedagogical  importance. 

De  la  suggestibility  naturelle  chez  les  enfants.  A.  BINET  and  V.  HENRI. 
Revue  Philosophique,  Oct.,  1894.  P.  338. 

Understanding  by  'natural  suggestion'  that  form  of  influence 
which,  in  ordinary  conditions,  people  exercise  upon  one  another, 
the  problem  was  to  investigate  the  effects  of  natural  suggestion  upon 
the  simple  judgments  of  children.  The  children  were  graded 
according  to  age,  as  follows  :  ist  grade,  children  between  seven  and 
nine  ;  2d  grade,  children  between  nine  and  eleven  ;  3d  grade,  chil- 
dren between  eleven  and  thirteen.  The  tests  involved  suggestions 
of  three  sorts  : 

(I)  The  suggestion  of  a  preconceived  idea. — Three  lines  of  different 
lengths  were  shown  to  the  child  in  succession  ;  then,  after  a  short 
interval,  a  chart  was  presented  to  him  containing  lines  varying  regu- 
larly in  length,  of  which  Nos.  5,  n  and  18  corresponded  in  length 
to  the  three  models  ;  and  he  was  asked  to  pick  out  those  lines  which 
were  equal  to  the  models.  Then  the  test  was  repeated  with  this 
difference  :  that  in  the  chart  now  presented  to  the  child  the  five 
longest  lines  (Nos.  17-21),  and  therefore  the  line  corresponding  to 
the  third  model  were  lacking.  The  force  of  suggestion  would  be 
felt  in  the  expectation,  on  the  child's  part,  of  a  uniform  experience 
in  the  two  tests  (especially  as  in  the  second  case  the  third  model  was 
shown  him,  just  as  in  the  first),  and  in  his  natural  timidity  and  reluc- 
tance to  declare  the  absence  of  the  looked-for  line,  even  if  he  sus- 
pected it.  Over  against  this  we  must  place  the  accuracy  of  his 
judgment  and  the  correctness  of  his  memory.  The  result  was  that 
a  certain  number  believed  themselves  to  find  in  the  second  chart  a 
line  of  the  length  of  the  third  model,  and  chose  accordingly.  Now 


of  these  a  certain  number  had  in  the  first  test  chosen  for  the  third 
model  a  line  below  No.  16  on  the  chart  of  21  lines.  These  were 
now  counted  out,  for  the  obvious  reason  that  since  they  had  made 
this  erroneous  judgment,  where  there  was  no  suggestion,  they  could 
not  be  presumed  to  have  made  it  through  suggestion  in  the  second 
case.  The  whole  experiment  was  now  repeated  with  the  rest,  with 
the  result  that  the  susceptibility  to  suggestion  was,  on  the  average,  in 
inverse  proportion  to  the  child's  age.  Of  the  children  in  the  first  grade, 
88  per  cent.,  in  the  second  60  per  cent.,  and  in  the  third  47  per 
cent,  yielded  to  the  suggestion  of  the  preconceived  idea  and  selected 
a  line  for  the  third  model  from  the  second  or  incomplete  chart.  So 
far  we  have  only  judgments  based  upon  memory.  Now  the  child 
was  allowed  to  see  the  model  and  the  chart  at  the  same  time  (direct 
comparison).  Using  only  one  model  (the  third)  the  results  were  : 
with  the  complete  chart  67  per  cent,  of  the  children  erred  in  direct 
comparison  and  79  per  cent,  in  memory  comparison.  When  the  16- 
line  chart  was  used,  38  per  cent,  made  errors  in  direct  comparison 
and  65  per  cent,  in  memory  comparison.  There  seemed  also,  in  the 
case  of  direct  comparison,  more  assurance  and  less  timidity,  and  so 
less  susceptibility  to  suggestion,  than  in  the  other  case. 

(II)  Verbal  Suggestion. — A  line  40  mm.  long  was  shown  to  the 
child,  and  he  was  asked  to  choose  a  line  of  that  length  from  a  chart 
as  before.  At  the  moment  of  his  doing  so,  however,  the  experi- 
menter said,  in  a  calm,  even  voice,  and  without  gesture  :  'Are  you 
quite  sure  you  are  right?'  The  result  was  that,  in  the  case  of 
memory-comparison,  89  per  cent,  of  the  ist  grade  children,  80  per 
cent,  of  the  2nd  grade,  and  54  per  cent,  of  the  3rd  grade  hesitated 
and  then  changed  their  selection,  under  the  influence  of  the  verbal 
suggestion.  In  the  case  of  direct  comparison  the  figures  are:  ist 
grade,  74  per  cent.;  2nd  grade,  73  per  cent.;  3rd  grade,  48  per 
cent.  Here,  again,  the  younger  the  child  the  less  stable  his  judg- 
ment and  the  more  open  he  is  to  suggestion.  Here,  too,  we  see  as 
before  that  fewer  errors  are  made  in  direct  comparison  than  in 
memory-comparison.  Again  it  was  observed  that  those  whose  judg- 
ments were  correct  were  less  open  to  suggestion  than  the  others. 
Only  56  per  cent,  of  the  former  to  88  per  cent,  of  the  latter  changed 
their  selections.  Again,  of  those  who  changed  their  selection  on 
account  of  the  suggestion,  81  per  cent,  changed  \tfor  the  better  (i.  e., 
for  one  more  nearly  correct),  only  19  per  cent,  changed  for  the 
worse.  This  is  surprising,  especially  in  the  case  of  memory-com- 
parisons :  one  would  expect  that  the  interruption  would  have  made 
the  child  nervous,  and  so  hindered  instead  of  helping  his  judgment 


(III)  Suggestion  in  collective  experiments. — Taking  four  pupils  at  a 
time,  they  are  allowed  to  see  the  model  line  and  the  chart  of  lines 
simultaneously,  and  then  are  asked  to  say,  all  at  once,  which  line  is 
equal  to  the  model.  Generally  they  do  not  all  answer  together,  and 
the  slow  ones  come  under  the  suggestion  of  the  quicker  ones.  In 
such  cases  there  is  a  surprising  uniformity  among  the  younger  chil- 
dren, the  older  pupils  being  more  independent  in  their  answers. 
Yet  in  all  the  grades  there  is  a  great  susceptibility  to  this  sort  of 
suggestion.  The  percentage  of  correct  answers  was  somewhat 
higher,  when  taken  in  this  collective  way,  than  when  taken  individ- 
ually (34  per  cent,  to  23  per  cent.). 

A  Preliminary  Study  of  Motor  Ability.       J.  A.  HANCOCK,  Pedagogical 
Seminary,  Oct.,  1894. 

This  study  by  Mr.  Hancock  well  deserves  the  careful  study  of 
all  interested  in  child  education.  A  large  number  of  school  chil- 
dren from  five  to  seven  years  of  age  were  tested  in  various  ways  to 
discover  the  amount  of  muscular  control  they  possessed.  For  full 
description  of  the  tests  and  apparatus  and  detailed  statements  of  the 
results  the  original  article  must  be  consulted.  The  results  can  be 
stated  here  only  partially  and  in  a  general  way,  e.  g.  : 

I.  A  child  cannot  stand  so  still  as  a  man.     Men  swayed,  on  the 
average,  3.5  cm.  in  the  anterio-posterior  direction  and  2  cm.  later- 
ally.    Boys  of  six  years  swayed  5.1  cm.  by  4.3  cm. 

II.  A  child  cannot  hold  his  hand  so  still  as  a  man.     Men  moved 
their  hands  on  the  average  .242  cm.  by  .752  cm. ;  boys  of  six  moved 
theirs  1.191  cm.  by  4.258  cm. 

III.  A  child   cannot   hold    his    attention    upon    any  subject   so 
steadily  as  a  man.     Some  of  these  experiments,  which  required  sus- 
tained attention  for  one  minute,  could  not  be  carried  out  in  the  case 
of  the  children. 

IV.  Control  of  the  arm  is  far  greater  in  men  than  in  children. 
With  the  former  the   *  Trenograph '  registered  an  average  movement 
of  .0975  cm.;  with  the  latter  of  .396  cm. 

V.  The  child  cannot  tap  so  rapidly  as  the  adult.     The  rate  for 
the  child  of  16  years  is  five  times  as  great  as  for  one  of  six  years. 

VI.  The  order  of  control  is  from  fundamental  to  accessory  mus- 
cles (/.  <?.,  larger  muscles  come  under  control  earlier  than  smaller). 
Fine,  complicated  movements  are  difficult  for  the  child. 

VII.  The  prolonged  effort  to  keep  quiet  produces  in   children 
strong  symptoms  of  nervous  irritation. 


VIII.  "Generally  the  girl,  at  the  same  age,  is  steadier  than  the 

IX.  "Children  in  normal  healthy  growth  show  a  lack  of  coor- 
dination and  control  paralleled  only  by  ataxic,  choreic  and  paralytic 
patients."  F.   TRACY. 



On  the  Inadequacy  of  the  Cellular  Theory  of  Development  and  on  the  Early 
Development  of  Nerves,  particularly  the  Third  Nerve,  and  of  the 
Sympathetic  in  Elasmobranchii.  ADAM  SEDGWICK.  The  Quarterly 
Journal  of  Microscopical  Science,  N.  S.,  No.  145,  November, 

During  the  past  decade  the  protest  has  been  coming  from  many 
quarters  and  with  increasing  strength  against  certain  crude  notions 
which,  as  accessories,  have  attached  themselves  to  the  cell  doctrine. 
Our  author  points  out  the  condition  of  affairs,  and  summarises 
the  usual  training  in  these  dogmas  with  telling  effect.  He  then  pro- 
ceeds to  illustrate  the  darkness  of  this  biological  age  by  several  ex- 
amples. During  his  various  studies,  especially  those  on  Peripatus, 
he  has  been  struck  by  the  fact  that  in  many  cases  tissues  refused  to 
break  up  into  cells  or  cell  layers.  "It  would  appear,"  he  says, 
"  that  in  Peripatus  the  cells  of  the  adults  in  so  far  as  they  are  dis- 
tinct and  sharply  marked  off  structures,  are  not,  as  appears  to  be 
generally  the  case,  present  in  the  earliest  embryonic  stages,  but  are 
gradually  evolved  as  development  proceeds.  In  other  words,  the 
cell  theory,  if  it  implies  that  the  adult  cells  are  derived  from  em- 
bryonic cells  which  have  been  directly  produced  by  the  division  of 
the  ovicell,  does  not  apply  to  the  embryos  of  Peripatus."  For  further 
illustration  Sedgwick  then  takes  up  the  so-called  mesenchyme  tissue 
of  Elasmobranch  embryos;  the  origin  of  nerve  trunks  and  the 
fate  of  the  neural  crest. 

The  ideas  fundamental  to  the  view  urged  by  our  author  are  set 
forth  in  what  is  stated  concerning  nerve  cells.  According  to  this 
hypothesis  nerve  fibres  are  present  before  the  nuclei  or  cell  bodies 
appear.  The  principal  function  of  the  neural  crest,  so  far  as  it  takes 
part  in  forming  the  nervous  system,  is  to  produce  nuclei  which  ulti- 
mately attach  themselves  at  various  points  to  this  reticulum  from 
which  the  fibres  are  formed  by  condensation.  The  details  need  not 
be  given,  for  it  is  at  once  evident  how  very  widely  such  a  view  dif- 
fers from  the  one  current,  and  according  to  which  the  nervous  sys- 
tem takes  origin  from  a  series  of  spherical  cells  which  later  produce 


the  fibres  as  outgrowths.  This  new  explanation  certainly  deals  with 
but  a  fraction  of  the  facts.  Most  anatomists  are  ready  to  admit  that 
in  the  matter  of  cell  formation  as  in  other  life  processes  there  are 
wide  variations,  all  the  way  from  distinctly  marked  cell  elements  as 
disconnected  as  blood  corpuscles  through  forms  incompletely  sepa- 
rated, to  those  in  which  nuclei  appear  scattered  in  a  poorly  divided 
enclosing  mass.  That  any  one  of  these  arrangements  should  be 
chosen  as  representing  the  'whole  truth'  and  the  others  'reduced' 
to  it  is  more  likely  to  hamper  than  to  enlarge  knowledge.  It  is  psy- 
chologically interesting  that  we  glory  in  the  thought  of  transfor- 
mation and  genetic  evolution,  yet  dominated  by  the  notion  of  types 
and  the  mistaken  idea  that  profound  conceptions  must  be  capable  of 
simple  expression,  in  the  same  breath  utter  a  partial  hypothesis 
which  is  warranted  complete,  and  thereupon  proceed  to  'whip  in' 
the  non-conforming  facts.  There  is  but  one  excuse  for  this,  namely, 
that  each  hypothesis  must  be  pushed  in  every  direction  in  order  to 
demonstrate  its  truth  or  falsity,  but  we  rely  on  our  colleagues  to  ex- 
ercise good  judgment  in  the  process  and  not  mislead  us,  for  grave 
responsibilities  attach  even  to  the  exercise  of  the  scientific  imagin- 

A  description  of  the  cerebral  convolutions  of  the  Chimpanzee  known  as 
"  Sally"  j  with  notes  on  the  convolutions  of  other  Chimpanzees  and  of 
two  Orangs.  W.  BENHAM.  The  Quarterly  Journal  of  Micro- 
scopical Science,  N.  S.,  No.  145,  November,  1894.  Plates  7—11. 

Chimpanzee  brains  differ  among  themselves  and  the  zoologists 
hint  at  two  or  even  three  species  of  this  animal.  The  individual 
'Sally'  who  lived  eight  years  at  the  Zoological  Gardens  in  London 
has  been  referred  by  Beddard  to  the  species  Troglodytes  calvus.  The 
brain  from  this  case  is  in  some  respects  unsimian  in  its  conformation. 

In  the  majority  of  cases  the  chimpanzee  brain  possesses  an  occipital 
operculum,  a  distinctly  simian  feature.  This  was  quite  absent  in  the 
case  of  Sally.  Further  the  demarkation  of  the  insula  and  the 
branches  at  the  anterior  end  of  the  Sylvian  fissure  were  more  than 
usually  evident.  Thus  this  specimen  serves  to  diminish  in  various 
important  characters  the  differences  in  form  between  the  brain  of 
man  and  of  the  chimpanzee  as  generally  described.  The  accom- 
panying plates  are  excellent. 

The  two  other  chimpanzee  brains  most  similar  to  that  of  'Sally' 
have  been  described  by  Broca  and  by  Miiller  respectively.  Both  the 
latter  brains  were  from  young  males,  the  species  not  having  been 
exactly  recorded.  Hence  there  is  no  positive  evidence  that  this  type 


of  brain  is  characteristic  of  the  species  calvus,  but  at  the  same  time 
it  is  not  to  be  correlated  with  either  age  or  sex. 

Amusie  (Musikalische  Aphasie.)    J.  G.  EDGREN.     Deutsche  Zeitschrift 
ftir  Nervenheilkunde,  B.  VI.     H.  1-2.     December,  1894. 

The  perception  and  expression  of  musical  sounds  and  symbols 
can  be  shown  to  be  quite  parallel  to  that  for  the  sounds  and  symbols 
of  ordinary  speech.  Beyond  the  musical  faculty  comes  gesture  lan- 
guage, which  is  a  form  of  expression  even  more  general  than  music. 
It  has  occurred  to  Ballet  to  picture  the  three  brain  areas  concerned, 
as  three  concentric  circles,  of  which  that  representing  verbal  speech 
should  be  the  smallest  and  that  for  the  emotional  gesture  language, 
the  largest;  the  musical  faculty  falling  between  the  two.  Against 
such  a  scheme  there  are  many  important  objections;  but  it  serves  to 
emphasize  the  fact  that  in  any  one  instance  the  anatomical  bases  for 
the  reactions  are  not  identical  with  those  in  the  others,  although 
several  structures  may  be  used  in  common.  In  the  study  of  aphasia, 
the  disturbance  in  the  musical  faculty  has  been  neither  generally 
tested  nor  recorded  in  detail.  E.  is  able  to  find  in  the  literature, 
which  he  summarizes  with  great  skill,  a  number  of  cases  of  aphasia 
without  amusia;  another  group  in  which  they  are  combined,  and  a 
third  group,  in  which  the  amusia  in  one  form  or  another,  is  alone 

The  impulse  to  his  study  of  this  subject  was  a  case  of  amusia  in 
which  both  the  clinical  history  and  record  of  the  autopsy  were  at 
hand,  and  in  which  the  brain  lesion  in  the  left  hemsiphere  was  a 
destruction  of  the  anterior  two  thirds  of  the  first  temporal,  and  the 
anterior  half  of  the  second  temporal  gyrus,  together  with  destruc- 
tion in  the  right  hemisphere  of  the  middle  and  posterior  portions 
of  the  first  temporal  gyrus,  and  the  ventral  edge  of  the  inferior 
parietal  lobule  along  the  Sylvian  fissure.  Both  lesions  are  shown  in 

In  general  the  author  concludes  that  the  musical  faculty  like  that 
of  speech  can  be  disturbed  by  lesions  of  the  brain.  The  different 
forms  of  amusia  are  comparable  with  the  different  forms  of  aphasia. 
These  are  clinically  distinct,  and  while  the  analogous  forms  of 
aphasia  and  amusia  may  occur  together,  they  are  not  necessarily 
associated.  There  appears  also  to  be  a  distinct  anatomical  basis  for 
the  forms  of  amusia  as  contrasted  with  those  for  aphasia  and  for 
that  form  of  amusia  designated  as  note-deafness  (his  own  case),  there 
is  some  reason  to  locate  the  cortical  centre  in  the  first  and  second 
temporal  gyri  of  the  left  hemisphere,  somewhat  in  front  of  the 
region,  injury  to  which  causes  word  deafness. 


Recherches  microscopiche  e  sperimentali  su  git  effetti  delta  Tiroidectomia. 
F.  CAPOBIANCO.  Internationale  Monatschrift  fiir  Anatomic  und 
Physiologic,  Band  XI-H.,  II  and  XII,  1894. 

There  is  often  a  tendency  to  overlook  the  importance  of  nutritive 
conditions  in  modifying  the  reactions  of  the  nervous  system.  It  has 
been  shown,  however,  that  there  exists  a  close  connection  between 
the  thyroid  body  and  the  central  nervous  system.  On  the  patho- 
logical side  the  various  forms  of  goitre,  dependent  on  changes  in  the 
gland,  and  associated  with  disturbance  of  the  nervous  functions,  give 
still  further  support  to  this  idea,  and  Foster  remarks  in  his  text-book 
of  physiology  that  the  senescence  of  the  nervous  system  is  probably 
involved  in  the  early  atrophy  of  the  thymus. 

The  work  of  Capobianco  touches  two  points;  the  general  effect 
of  the  removal  of  this  gland  from  dogs  and  rabbits,  and  the  changes 
which  at  the  same  time  occur  in  the  nervous  system.  As  a  result  of 
the  total  extirpation  of  the  thyroid  gland,  dogs  and  rabbits  always 
die  within  four  weeks,  the  average  life  of  the  rabbits  being  longer 
than  that  of  the  dogs. 

Histological  examination  of  the  nervous  system,  central  and 
peripheral,  showed  distinct  pathological  changes  in  cell-bodies  and 
in  the  fibres  together  with  alterations  in  the  blood-vessels.  In 
dogs,  the  entire  central  system  is  involved,  while  in  the  rabbits  it  is 
the  bulb  which  is  most  affected. 

The  nature  of  the  histological  changes  is  that  of  an  atrophy  of 
both  cell-bodies  and  fibres,  while  in  some  cases  the  cell-bodies  show 
a  granular  disintegration  and  extreme  vacuolization.  The  plates 
illustrating  these  changes  are  very  striking  and  one  is  led  to  speculate 
on  how  far  slight  variations  in  the  activity  of  this  gland  may  initiate 
in  the  central  system  of  a  normal  person,  such  changes  as  are  here 
to  be  seen  in  an  exaggerated  form.  H.  H.  D. 



Beitrdge  zur  Lehre  von  der  Klangwahrnehmung.     L.  HERMANN.     Pflii- 

ger's  Arch.,  LVI,  10,  n,  12.     Pp.  467-499. 
Phonophotographische    Mittheilungen.    V.    Die    Curven  der  Consonanten. 

L.   HERMANN   and    FR.    MATTHIAS.     Phonophotographische   Un- 

tersuchungen.      VI.     Nachtrag  zur  Untersuchung  der   Vocalcurven. 

L.   HERMANN,   FR.  MATTHIAS   and   A.    EHRHARDT.     Pfliiger's 

Archiv.,  LVIII,  5  and  6.     Pp.  255-279. 
A  Study  of  the  Sense  of  Equilibrium  in  Fishes.     S.   LEE.     Part  II. 

Journ.  of  Physiol.,  Vol.  XVII,  Nos.  3  and  4. 

198  HEARING. 

On  the  ground  of  his  well-known  experiments  with  the  wave- 
siren,  A.  Konig  questioned  Helmholtz's  conclusion  that  clangs 
which  differ  only  in  the  phases  of  their  components  are  identical 
for  our  hearing.  Hermann  points  out  that  experiments  on  the 
wave-siren  are  themselves  questionable,  from  the  fact  that  on  this 
instrument  difference  of  phase  may  result  in  similar  sounds  from 
clangs  which  are  fundamentally  different  in  the  order  of  their  over- 
tones. Reversing  the  curve  of  a  clang  as  given  in  a  phonograph, 
either  along  the  axis  of  abscissas  or  of  ordinate,  changes  the  phases 
of  the  components  but  not  the  sound. 

To  the  resultant  sounds  which  are  already  known  to  arise  from 
a  combination  of  tones,  Hermann  would  add  what  he  calls  a  Mittel- 
ton.  This  tone  arises  from  the  actual  resultant  vibrations  impressed 
on  the  conducting  medium  by  the  components  of  a  clang.  In  the 
case  of  two  component  tones  of  the  rates  of  vibration  m :  n,  the 
number  of  vibrations  of  this  '  median  tone '  within  a  beat-period 

,  j  ,        m  -r-  n 

would  be  — 7 — : r-. 

2  (m  —  n) 

From  experiments  on  toothed  disks,  in  which  the  phase  of  a  tone- 
was  rapidly  renewed,  Hermann  concludes  that  change  of  phase 
itself  produces  tones  which  may  be  and  probably  are  the  Tartarian 
tones.  The  Tartarian  tone,  therefore,  is  the  intermittent  tone 
from  the  medial  tone.  The  article  concludes  with  certain  hypotheti- 
cal additions  to  Helmholtz's  resonance  theory  of  tone  sensations 
required  to  explain  intermittent  and  beat  tones.  As  regards  sim- 
plicity, however,  it  is  better  to  assume  the  direct  excitability  of  the 
auditory  nerve  than  to  add  a  new  series  of  epicyles  to  the  resonance 

In  getting  consonant  curves,  Hermann  found  it  necessary  to  mul- 
tiply the  motion  of  the  phonograph,  firstly,  by  an  additional  lever, 
secondly,  by  a  ray  of  light  reflected  from  the  second  lever.  The 
motions  of  this  ray  of  light  were  photographed.  The  entire  'plant* 
of  apparatus  is  extremely  complicated  and  delicate.  The  present 
communication  gives  the  curves  for  Z. 

Applying  the  above  apparatus  to  vowel  sounds,  Hermann  ob- 
tained curves  five  (5)  centimeters  high.  The  curves  confirmed  his 
views  published  in  former  numbers  of  the  Archiv,  in  regard  to  the 
fixed  form  of  the  characteristic  vowel  tone, 

Dr.  Lee's  article  is  in  continuation  of  his  study  on  equilibrium 
published  in  Vol.  XV.  of  the  Journal  of  Physiology. 

The  chief  find  in  the  present  article  is  that  by  stimulating  the 
auditory  nerve  of  the  common  dog-fish  (galmus  canis),,  the  resulting 


movements  of  the  eyes  and  fins  is  the  algebraic  sum  of  the  move- 
ments which  arise  from  eliminating  the  ampullae  branches  separately. 


Recherches  sur  la   me'moire  affective.     TH.    RIBOT.      Revue    Philoso- 

phique,  XXXVIII,  376-401. 

Affective  Attention.     E.  B.  TITCHENER.     Philos.  Rev.,  Ill,  429-33. 
Affective  Memory.     E.  B.  TITCHENER.     Philos.  Rev.,  IV,  65-76. 

M.  Ribot  attempts  to  show  that  pleasures,  pains  and  emotions, 
as  well  as  olfactory,  gustatory  and  organic  sensations  generally,  are 
not  merely  rememberable  in  an  intellectual  way  as  facts  that  have 
been  experienced,  but  that  they  may  themselves,  in  certain  cases,  be 
imaginatively  reproduced.  His  conclusion  is  based  on  answers  to 
questions  received  from  some  sixty  persons,  a  goodly  number  of 
whom  profess  ability  to  revive,  with  varying  precision  and  vividness, 
states  of  feeling  in  the  manner  indicated.  Mr.  Titchener  disputes 
the  interpretation.  He  does  not  deny  that  the  recollection  of  exhil- 
arating sport  may  be  pleasant  or  that  of  a  whipping  painful,  that  a 
tooth  may  be  made  to  ache  again  by  suggestion  of  the  former  tor- 
ment, or  that  the  memory  of  an  insult  may  excite  anger.  What  he 
denies  in  all  such  cases — and  it  is  on  such  cases  that  M.  Ribot  sup- 
ports his  contention — is  that  the  affection  thus  aroused  is  itself  a 
revival  of  the  original  affection,  and  not  rather  a  real  affection  giv- 
ing tone  to  or  a  real  emotion  prompted  by  an  ideal  object.  Seizing 
on  the  implied  admission  that  '  revived '  affection  always  attaches 
to  an  ideational  content,  he  urges  that  in  that  case  there  is  no  proof 
of  revival  of  affection  at  all;  it  is  a  question,  not  of  reproduction 
versus  production,  but  of  production  by  this  stimulus  rather  than  by 
that.  It  might  be  replied  that  the  same  is  true  of  every  sensational 
experience  that  imagination  represents.  The  *  reproduction '  is  in 
fact  a  production,  a  new  reality  brought  about  by  the  action  of  a 
stimulus  on  a  disposition  to  function,  attached  by  association  to  ele- 
ments other  than  those  which  attention  emphasizes  after  the  recall, 
and  only  identical  with  the  original  experience  as  being  the  same  in 
kind.  But  the  objection  lies  deeper.  The  real  question,  as  Mr. 
Titchener  conceives  it,  is  whether  pain,  pleasure  and  emotion  are 
possible  objects  of  attention  at  all.  It  is  because  he  believes  that  they 
are  not — a  point  argued  in  the  earlier  article — that  he  holds  that 
they  cannot  be  singled  out  and  identified  in  imagination.  What  can 
be  attended  to  are  the  sense-contents.  These,  however,  are  condi- 


tions,  not  constituents,  of  the  affectional  element,  and  the  denial 
of  our  ability  to  imagine  the  latter  as  distinct  from  really  experi- 
encing it  as  present  felt  qualification  of  the  represented  content 
appears  to  the  author  highly  important  as  a  matter  of  psychological 

Certainly,  as  a  matter  of  pure  introspection,  it  would  seem  im- 
possible for  the  attention  to  fasten  on  any  content  corresponding  to 
the  abstractions  'pleasure-pain'  or  'psychic  attitude.'  If,  as  Mr. 
Titchener  maintains,  a  feeling  is  *  properly  analyzed  into  sense-sub- 
strate and  affection,'  nothing  can  be  discovered  among  the  objects 
of  direct  consciousness  corresponding  to  the  latter.  On  the  other 
hand  we  can  attend,  as  Mr.  Titchener  allows,  to  our  concrete  feel- 
ings. A  toothache,  a  state  of  grief  or  terror,  can  be  as  distinctly 
felt  as  a  patch  of  red  color  or  a  movement  in  the  joints.  And  if 
felt,  then  represented  as  felt,  with  something,  no  doubt,  of  the 
repercussion  of  the  original  excitement.  Without  this  the  object 
represented  is  not  really  the  same,  and  the  experience  is  remem- 
bered much  as  a  color  is  remembered  which  is  not  visualized  ;  we 
know,  that  is,  its  name,  perhaps  some  of  its  concomitants.  Apart 
from  these  experiences,  there  is  nothing  in  pleasure,  pain  and  emo- 
tion for  psychology  to  deal  with  :  they  are  mere  names  which 
express,  not  psychological  experience,  but  the  practical  value  of  the 
experiences  which  they  qualify. 



Zur   Beurtheilung    der    zusammengesetzten    Reaclionen.       W.    WUNDT. 

Philos.  Stud.,  X,  485-498.  1894. 
Beobachtungen  bei  zusammengesetzten  Reactionen.  Zwei  briefliche  Mittheil- 

ungen  an  den  Herausgeber.     E.  KRAEPELIN  und  JULIUS  MERKEL. 

Philos.  Stud.,  X,  499-506.  1894. 
Simple  Reactions.  E.  B.  TITCHENER.  Mind,  N.  S.,  13,  74-81.  Jan., 

Two  Points  in  Reaction-time  Experimentation.     R.  WATANABE.     Am. 
Journ.  of  Psychol.,  VI,  408-512.     June,  1894. 

The  articles  in  the  Philosophische  Studien  call  attention  to  an  as- 
pect of  experimental  psychology  sometimes  overlooked  —  namely, 
the  importance  of  the  knowledge  that  may  be  derived  from  intro- 
spection in  the  course  of  psychological  experiments.  Thus  Prof. 
Wundt  states  explicitly  that  his  theory  of  the  development  of  the 
will,  and  of  its  relation  to  *  apperception,'  had  its  origin  in  observa- 
tions made  during  the  course  of  experiments  on  reaction-time.  He 


^concludes  his  discussion  by  saying  that  the  times  measured  have 
only  an  incidental  interest — the  real  value  of  such  experiments  lies 
in  the  fact  that  they  subject  mental  processes  to  fixed  conditions, 
.and  thus  make  possible  an  exact  analysis  by  introspection.  While 
much  can  be  said  for  this  point  of  view,  the  present  articles  do  not 
give  conclusive  testimony  in  its  favor,  as  they  are  controversial,  the 
introspective  evidence  of  some  observers  contradicting  that  of 

Wundt  argues  for  the  interpretation  of  sensory  and  motor  reac- 
tions, 'perception-times,'  'discrimination-times,'  'choice-times,' and 
'  association-times '  already  given  in  detail  in  the  fourth  edition  of 
the  Physiologische  Psychologic.  Wundt  is  regarded  as  the  great  repre- 
sentative of  the  experimental  and  scientific  method  in  psychology — 
and  deservedly  so — but  he  does  not  readily  adapt  himself  to  the 
•scientific  attitude  that  weighs  evidence  and  waits  for  evidence.  He 
considers  it  possible  and  desirable  to  pass  final  judgment  on  every 
•question  great  and  small.  This  he  does  with  much  learning  and 
ability,  but  often  without  proper  perspective.  He  sees  the  world  as 
a  panorama  with  himself  in  the  centre.  He  forgets  that  a  pano- 
rama, constructed  from  fragmentary  data,  holds  only  for  the  indi- 
vidual who  constructs  it — also  that  there  is  no  centre  of  infinite 

The  experiments  on  sensory  and  motor  reactions  do  not  seem  to 
the  present  writer  nearly  so  important  as  they  do  to  Wundt,  nor  can 
he  admit  Wundt's  interpretation  of  the  facts.  When  Wundt  informs 
us  that  "zu  Versuchen  iiber  den  zeitlichen  Verlauf  psychischer  Vor- 
gange  ist  nun  von  vornherein  nur  ein  Beobachter  fahig,  der  im 
stande  ist,  willkurlich  zwischen  diesen  beiden  Reactionsformen  zu 
wechseln,"  he  is  proposing  an  esoteric  psychology,  not  a  scientific 
method.  Wundt  insists  that  the  '  subject '  in  psychological  meas- 
urements must  always  be  a  skilled  psychologist.  Yet  he  writes  on 
Thierseele !  The  investigator  should,  indeed,  be  a  skilled  psycholo- 
gist, able  to  interpret  the  facts,  but  a  psychologist  with  a  theory  to 
prove  is  not  a  good  observer. 

Every  one  who  wishes  to  make  psycho-physical  time-measure- 
ments should  read  the  article  by  Wundt  and  the  letters  in  the  same 
number  of  the  Studien  by  Prof.  Kraepelin  and  Dr.  Merkel — not  in 
order  to  accept  as  a  matter  of  course  the  observations  given — but  in 
order  to  realize  the  need  of  observing  and  recording  the  changes  in 
consciousness  accompanying  such  experiments. 

Prof.  Titchener's  discussion  of  sensory  and  motor  reactions  in 
Mind  is  more  careful  and  judicial  than  is  Wundt's.  He  sums  up  the 


evidence  of  ten  researches  and  finds  six  favorable  to  the  distinction! 
and  four  more  or  less  negative.  Prof.  Baldwin,  however,  seems  ta 
be  counted  on  the  wrong  side,  as  he  finds  (in  a  publication, 
later  than  the  one  quoted)  the  nature  of  the  difference  to 
vary  with  the  observer;  and  Prof.  Titchener  himself  has  found 
the  distinction  in  less  than  half  the  cases  he  has  tested.  We 
may  conclude  that  the  normal  reaction-time  of  an  observer  can  often 
be  lengthened  by  directing  him  to  fix  his  attention  on  the  sense- 
impression,  but  it  does  not  seem  so  evident  that  it  can  be  shortened 
by  directing  him  to  fix  his  attention  on  the  movement.  The  reac- 
tion-time is  naturally  lengthened  and  made  more  irregular  when  its 
automatic  nature  is  disturbed  ;  and  from  the  experiments  made  in 
the  Leipzig  laboratory,  it  would  seem  that  attending  exclusively  to 
the  sense-impression  is  more  disturbing  than  attending  exclusively 
to  the  movement.  In  daily  life,  however,  the  contrary  holds  ; 
actions  are  executed  more  automatically  when  the  attention  is  di- 
rected to  the  sense-impression — thus  in  throwing,  catching  or  strik- 
ing a  ball,  the  more  completely  one  can  attend  to  the  ball  and  forget 
the  movement,  the  more  efficient  and  quick  is  the  movement.  In- 
deed, in  reaction-time  experiments,  when  the  stimulus  is  so  strong 
as  to  compel  the  attention  (as  with  painful  electric  shocks),  the 
reaction-time  is  very  short,  which  would  seem  conclusive  against  the 
extreme  views  of  Lange  and  Wundt.  That  the  difference  between 
the  times  of  sensory  and  motor  reactions  gives  the  time  required  to 
perceive  the  stimulus  (Wundt  and  also  Titchener  in  his  earlier  paper, 
jPhilos.  Stud.,  VIII.),  does  not  seem  admissible  to  the  present  writer. 
In  the  short  paper  by  Prof.  Titchener  and  Mr.  Watanabe,  atten- 
tion is  again  called  to  the  desirability  of  treating  reaction-time 
experiments  from  the  point  of  view  of  psychology.  The  observer's 
impression  regarding  the  nature  of  the  reaction  is  recorded.  The 
writers  conclude  that  in  the  case  of  sensory  reactions  introspection 
affords  an  adequate  control,  but  is  less  trustworthy  in  the  case  of 
muscular  reactions.  J.  McK.  C. 

Glaube  und  Urtheil.     W.  JERUSALEM.      Vierteljahsschirft  fur  wissen- 

schaftliche  Philosophic.     Vol.  XVII,  pp.  162-195. 
Grundzuge  der  Logik.     T.  LIPPS.     Hamburg  u.   Leipzig:  Voss. 
Principii  di Logica  Reale.     N.  R.  D' ALFONSO.     Rome:  1894. 
Appearance  and  Reality  (passim).     F.  H.  BRADLEY. 
The  Test  of  Belief.       J.    P.    GORDY.      Philosophical    Review,    May, 

1894,  257. 

Few   states   of   consciousness,    or   psychoses,    whether     viewed 
from  the  psychological  or  from  the  epistemological  standpoint,  are 


more  interesting  or  more  important  than  those  indicated  by  the 
words  'judgment'  and  'belief.'  If  it  be  true  that  the  whole  essence 
of  the  thinking  process  is  involved  in  the  formation  and  expression 
of  judgments;  that  judgment  is  not  so  much  a  mere  occurrence  in 
the  mind  as  an  activity  of  the  mind;  that  the  test  of  a  genuine  act 
of  judgment  is  the  presence  in  it  of  belief;  and  that  in  all  judgment 
there  is  thus  a  *  trans-psychosial '  reference,  a  reference,  that  is,  to 
reality  beyond  the  factual  sphere  of  the  psychosis  as  such: — if  all 
this  and  much  more  that  we  "are  told  of  judgment  and  belief,  be 
true,  then  it  would  scarcely  be  too  much  to  say  that  a  good  means 
of  testing  the  psychological  and  even  the  epistemological  position  of 
any  writer  would  be  to  ask  "What  is  his  doctrine  of  '  belief  and  of 
'judgment'?"  We  summarize  a  few  recent  utterances  bearing  upon 
these  subjects: — 

Herr  Jerusalem  calls  attention  to  the  fact  that  in  recent  times 
the  view  has  often  found  expression  that  the  essential  characteristic 
of  the  act  of  judgment  is  the  consciousness  of  its  objective  validity, 
called  by  the  English  belief  and  by  some  German  psychologist  Aner- 
kennung.  This  view  has  been  urged  especially  by  J.  S.  Mill  (Notes, 
on  Jas.  Mill's  Analysis,  I,  p.  342,  and  Exam,  of  Ham.  Philos.,  p.  405) 
and  by  Brentano  (Psychol.  vom  empir.  Standpunkte,  I,  pp.  269  f.).. 
Attention  is  also  called  to  the  important  discussions  of  belief  by 
James  (II,  282  ff)  and  Baldwin  (II,  ch.  7  and  Mind,  N.  S.,  I,  403); 
the  last  named  has  handled  in  a  very  noteworthy  manner  the  ques- 
tion of  the  relation  of  belief,  feeling  and  judgment.  The  trans- 
psychosial  reference  inherent  in  every  judgment  and  characterizing 
it  as  something  more  than  a  mere  psychosis,  a  mere  affection  of 
consciousness,  was  recognized  even  by  the  ancients,  e.  g.,  by  Plato 
(Theat.,  184-187)  and  the  Stoics  (Cicero,  De  Fato,  19,  43). 
Descartes  and  Spinoza  emphasized  the  presence  of  a  conative  ele- 
ment in  judgment  and  in  belief;  with  them  judgment  is  predom- 
inantly an  assent  of  the  will,  an  affirmation.  The  history  of  the 
problem  of  judgment  shows  that  it  has  been  handled  either  in  a  one- 
sidedly  psychological  or  in  a  one-sidedly  grammatico-logical  manner.. 
Baldwin  has  rightly  insisted  that  a  complete  theory  of  judgment 
can  only  be  attained  when  all  the  constituent  factors,  or  elements, 
entering  into  the  act  are  given  full  recognition. 

Herr  Jerusalem  thinks  that  the  whole  subject  of  judgment  needs 
to  be  investigated  anew,  and  especially  does  the  relation  of  belief 
to  judgment  need  to  be  made  clear. 

Judgment  is,  he  finds,  an  activity  by  which  the  complex  of  sen- 
sation, or  manifold  of  sense,  is  discriminated  and  combined,  moulded 


and  articulated,  and  objectified,  i.  e.,  regarded  as  an  independent 
unitary  being  with  powers.  Consciousness  in  judging  conceives  the 
given  manifold  or  complex  as  the  activity  of  a  thing.  Judgment  is 
essentially  '  ein  Gliedern  und  Gestalten.'  An  injection  of  an  element 
of  willing  into  the  presentative  complex  is  the  most  important  factor 
in  an  act  of  judgment.  In  fact,  in  judgment  the  given  content  of 
sense — presentative  content — is  formed  or  moulded  by  a  process 
analogous  to  the  activities  of  our  own  will,  and  objectified  or  con- 
ceived as  an  activity  or  quality  of  a  thing.  In  this  objectification 
we  find  the  germs  out  of  which  belief  and  the  conception  of  truth 
later  develop.  This  objectification  being  present  implicitly  in 
sense-perception,  we  may  say  that  even  in  perceiving  we  judge. 

What  now  is  the  relation  of  judgment  to  truth  ?  Truth,  as  al- 
ready said,  is  implicit  in  the  objective  reference  characteristic  of  all 
judgment.  Mill  is  right  in  saying  that  to  judge  and  to  regard  the 
judgment  as  true  are  identical.  This,  at  any  rate,  is  true  of  original 
and  naive  judgments.  The  full  consciousness  of  truth  is,  however,  only 
reached  when  by  experience  we  are  taught  the  possibility  of  error. 
The  truth  of  a  judgment  is  the  relation  between  the  judgment  as  a 
psychological  fact  and  the  judged  event.  We  denote  this  relation 
by  word  the  *  accordance'  (Entsprecheii).  The  idea  of  truth  first  arises  by 
reflecting  on  this  relation.  Such  reflection,  however,  only  becomes 
possible  when  we  discover  that  wrong  interpretations,  mistakes, 
occur.  In  defending  the  meaning  contained  in  a  judgment  against 
possible  assaults  the  consciousness  of  truth  emerges.  The  con- 
ception, therefore,  of  truth  presupposes  experience  of  error.  Truth 
and  error  both  belong  properly  to  the  sphere  of  judgment.  Brad- 
ley's  distinction  between  an  '  idea  as  a  fact '  and  an  '  idea  as  a 
meaning,'  more  properly  holds  of  judgments  than  of  concepts.  We 
can,  that  is,  distinguish  between  a  judgment  as  state  of  conscious- 
ness and  a  judgment  as  having  a  'meaning ';  and  truth  is  the  rela- 
tion of  these  two  sides  of  the  judgment  to  each  other.  Indeed 
only  in  a  system  recognizing  a  world  of  extra-mental  realities,  in- 
dependent of  judgments  and  to  which  they  may  conform  or  not,  is 
truth  possible;  that  is,  truth  presupposes  psychoses  and  a  trans- 
psychosial  world  of  realities;  deny  either  and  the  merely  factual, 
not  truth,  is  all  that  is  left.  The  criteria  of  truth  are  found  in  the 
fulfilment  of  predictions  and  the  agreement  with  other  thinkers. 

What  now  is  the  nature  of  belief,  and  what  is  its  relation  to 
judgment  ?  An  element  of  belief  is  implicit  in  the  act  of  judgment; 
but  this  embryonic  belief  is  to  be  carefully  distinguished  from  belief 
in  the  higher  sense.  Belief  as  a  clearly  experienced  state  of  con- 


sciousness  is  the  holding  as  true  of  a  judgment  and  therefore  it  pre- 
supposes judgment  and  the  concept  of  truth.  Yet  the  truth  of  a 
judgment  is  in  no  way  a  condition  of  belief;  untrue  judgments  are 
believed  as  well  as  true  ones.  The  English  psychologists  are  right 
in  finding  in  feeling  the  source  and  essence,  psychologically,  of 
belief.  The  opposite  of  belief  is  not  disbelief  but  doubt,  which  is 
generally  and  rightly  regarded  as  feeling;  belief,  therefore,  is  pre- 
dominantly feeling.  'Predominantly,'  for  all  psychic  facts — all 
really  experienced  psychoses — consist,  without  exception,  of  more 
than  a  single  factor,  comprise  always  intellectual,  conative,  and 
affective  elements.  They  are  named  and  classified  according  to  the 
predominant  factor,  and  in  the  case  of  belief,  this  is  feeling.  Belief, 
as  here  used,  is  not  to  be  contrasted  with  knowledge;  it  is  used  in 
the  general  sense  of  'holding  as  true.'  What  calls  forth  this  feeling 
which  attaches  itself  to  a  judgment  and  turns  it  into  one  held  as 
true  ?  The  answer  is,  that  belief  is  the  feeling  of  harmony,  or  agree- 
ment with  the  previous  content  of  my  consciousness;  the  feeling  of 
the  accordance  of  a  judgment  with  my  conceptions  of  the  world. 
Just  as  doubt  arises  from  the  conflict  of  a  judgment  with  my  pre- 
vious thoughts,  so  the  feeling  of  belief  springs  from  their  harmony. 

Herr  Jerusalem's  paper  is  a  very  meritorious  one  and  will  repay 

Prof.  Lipps  also  emphasizes  the  objective,  or  'trans-psychosial,' 
reference  in  all  judgment.  Judgment  is  the  consciousness  of  the 
objective  necessity  of  a  relation,  or  union,  of  the  objects  of  con- 
sciousness. The  logical  doctrine  that  judgment  states  only  what  is 
true  or  false,  is  sound.  Truth  is  synonymous  with  real  knowledge. 
The  distinction  is  made — fundamental  for  logic — between  real  and 
formal  judgments.  In  a  formal  judgment  the  objective  necessity  is 
an  unconditional  necessity  prevailing  among  notions;  in  a  material 
judgment  the  objective  necessity  is  that  of  relating,  to  an  object  of 
consciousness  thought  as  objectively  real  and  so  far  as  it  is  thus 
thought,  another  also  thought  as  objectively  real.  The  objectively 
valid  judgment  is  the  special  act  of  real  knowledge.  A  judgment  is 
objectively  valid  when  the  consciousness  of  the  objective  necessity 
perdures,  without  contradiction,  against  all  possible  experience  and 
objectively  necessary  union  of  the  objects  of  experience.  Objective- 
ly valid  judgments,  hence  knowledge,  arise  in  the  struggle  and  inter- 
action of  the  proximate  subjectively  valid  judgments.  Every  judg- 
ment is  subjectively  valid  in  so  far  as  it  is  made. 

The  universal  validity,  or  validity  for  all,  follows  from  the  ob- 
jective validity,  on  the  assumption  of  similarity  in  the  thinking 


processes  of  all  thinking  beings.  That  is,  the  claim  to  universal 
validity  of  a  judgment  lies  in  the  conviction,  that,  on  account  of  the 
similarity  of  all  minds,  all  must  reach  like  judgments,  in  so  far  as 
they  have  the  same  experiences  and  relate  them  by  thought.  Prof. 
Lipps'  discussion  is,  from  the  logical  standpoint,  singularly  fresh 
•and  helpful. 

Signor  D' Alfonso  in  his  little  treatise  on  concrete  logic  has  some 
remarks  of  interest  on  judgment  (considerazioni sul  giudtzio) .  All  think- 
ing and  reasoning  are  essentially  judging;  in  judgment  is  involved 
the  whole  of  the  thinking  process.  Every  judgment  implies  in  one 
and  the  same  act  a  synthesis  and  an  analysis;  these  are  the  two 
sides  of  every  judgment.  Every  so-called  negative  judgment  can 
be  transformed  into  a  positive  one.  When  we  assert  that  a  given 
body  is  not  solid  we  implicit}7  assert  that  it  is  liquid  or  gaseous. 
Negation  is,  it  would  seem  therefore,  a  judgment  on  a  judgment 
and  thus  presupposes  an  affirmative  judgment.  Psychologically 
affirmation  is  prior  to  negation — in  fact  all  judgments  are,  psycholog- 
ically, affirmative.  That  is,  as  concrete  mental  processes  there  is  no 
distinction  between  positive  and  negative  judgments;  the  attitude  of 
mind  in  up  and  down  negation  being  the  same  as  in  affirmation.  It 
is,  therefore,  the  non-licet  attitude  of  mind,  the  refusal  to  (logically) 
affirm  or  deny,  which  is  psychologically  the  opposite  of  judgment. 

Mr.  Bradley  is  more  interested  in  the  epistemological  and  meta- 
physical aspects  of  judgment  and  belief  than  in  the  purely  psycho- 
logical. But  his  book  is  full  of  keen  psychological  analyses  and 
deserves,  as  was  made  evident  by  Prof.  Baldwin  in  a  late  number 
of  this  REVIEW,  the  attention  of  students  of  psychology.  Those 
acquainted  with  Mr.  Bradley's  Principles  of  Logic,  will  not  be  sur- 
prised to  find  that  in  the  more  recent  work  he  has  a  good  deal  to 
say  of  judgment.  We  extract  a  few  pregnant  statements  :  In 
judgment,  according  to  Mr.  Bradley,  we  find  thought  in  its  com- 
pleted form.  Judgment  is  the  differentiation  of  a  complex  whole, 
and  hence  always  is  analysis  and  synthesis  in  one.  It  separates  an 
element  from,  and  restores  it  to,  the  concrete  basis.  And  here 
obviously  the  synthesis  effected  is  a  re-union  of  the  distinguished, 
and  implies  the  separation,  which,  though  it  is  over-ridden,  is  never 
unmade.  The  predicate  is  a  content  which  has  been  made  loose 
from  its  own  immediate  existence  and  is  used  in  divorce  from  that 

In  every  judgment  there  is  in  the  subject  an  aspect  of  existence 
which  is  absent  from  the  bare  predicate.  No  one  ever  means  to 
assert  about  anything  but  reality,  or  to  do  anything  but  qualify  a 


"that'  by  a  'what.'  Judgment  adds  an  adjective  to  reality.  In 
every  judgment  the  genuine  subject  is  reality,  which  goes  beyond 
the  predicate  and  of  which  the  predicate  is  an  adjective.  The  pre- 
dicate, on  the  other  hand,  is  a  mere  'what,'  a  mere  feature  of  con- 
tent, which  is  used  to  qualify  the  'that'  of  the  subject.  In  every 
judgment,  then,  we  find  an  aspect  of  existence,  absent  from  the 
predicate  but  present  in  the  subject,  and  in  the  synthesis  of  these 
aspects  we  have  got  the  essence  of  judgment. 

Prof.  Gordy's  paper  is  a  fitting  companion-piece  to  Herr  Jerus- 
alem's. It  is  so  full  of  matter  that  it  is  difficult  to  condense  it  and 
yet  do  it  justice. 

The  distinction  between  the  pure  intellect  seeing  and  the  practical 
intellect  trusting,  or  between  knowledge  and  belief,  Prof.  Gordy 
considers  of  fundamental  importance.  Belief  of  any  kind  consists, 
"he  declares,  of  two  factors:  what,  with  Baldwin,  we  may  call  the 
reality-feeling,  plus  the  'consciousness  of  the  personal  indorsement 
of  reality.'  One  of  these  elements  or  constituents  of  belief — the 
reality-feeliug — we  may  have  without  the  other — the  personal  indorse- 
ment of  the  reality;  the  saying  to  one's  self  that  the  reality- feeling  is 
true.  "Sitting  in  a  car  at  a  depot,  waiting  for  my  train  to  start,  I 
seem  to  see  the  motion  of  my  train  when  another  train  moves  slowly 
by.  In  other  words,  the  reality  feeling  attaches  itself  to  the  image 
or  idea  of  my  train  in  motion.  But  when  I  look  at  the  wheels  of  the 
moving  train  this  reality  feeling  ceases  to  exist  so  long  as  I  continue 
to  look  at  them.  I  see  or  believe  that  the  apparent  motion  of  my 
train  is  due  to  the  real  motion  of  the  other.  The  same  kind  of 
reality-feeling  attaches  itself  to  a  new  set  of  experiences.  But  as  soon 
as  I  stop  looking  at  the  wheels,  the  old  reality-feeling  returns — my 
train  seems  to  move  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  I  know  it  does  not.  In 
other  words,  the  reality-feeling,  which  alone  distinguishes  the  ideas 
or  images  of  memory  from  mere  imagination,  attaches  itself  to  ex- 
periences which  we  know  from  other  evidence  do  not  represent  real- 
ity." For  further  discussion  of  this  point  we  are  referred  to  '  Baldwin's 
able  and  very  lucid  treatment  of  the  subject,'  Feeling  and  Will,  ch.  7. 

By  a  critical  examination,  containing  much  that  is  suggestive,  of 
Prof.  Bain's  three  postulates  or  assumptions  underlying  all  material 
or  inductive  inferences,  and  of  J.  S.  Mill's  theory  of  induction,  Prof. 
Gordy  reaches  the  conclusion  that  in  order  to  carry  on  the  reason- 
ings of  ordinary  life  as  well  as  those  of  science,  we  must  assume  (i) 
the  trustworthiness  of  memory  within  certain  limits,  (2)  the  uniform- 
ity of  nature,  and  (3)  that  an  hypothesis  that  explains  a  particular 
group  of  facts,  and  at  the  same  time  harmonizes  with  the  rest  of  our 


beliefs,  is  true.  We  can  give  no  reasons  for  such  beliefs  which 
would  at  all  satisfy  a  cold,  critical  intellect,  an  intellect  indifferent 
to  consequences,  an  intellect  that  believes  only  in  so  far  as  it  sees 
grounds  for  certainty  or  for  probability.  Now  from  the  point  of 
view  of  the  pure  intellect,  the  intellect  seeing,  not  trusting,  these 
beliefs  have  neither  certainty  nor  probability;  from  the  point  of  view 
of  the  practical  intellect,  the  intellect  yielding  to  the  native  instincts 
and  unreasoned  tendencies  of  the  mind,  they  are  not  only  probable 
but  certain.  From  the  point  of  view  of  knowledge,  in  a  word,  our 
beliefs  are  so  many  pure  assumptions. 

Now  we  need  a  test  of  belief.  By  'test  of  belief,'  Prof.  Gordy 
does  not  mean  a  test  by  means  of  which  we  can  determine  the  truth 
of  our  beliefs,  that  would  be  a  test  of  truth.  He  means  a  formula- 
tion of  the  marks  or  characteristics  of  the  beliefs  that  we  are  obliged 
to  assume  without  proof.  Now  we  can  say  that,  since  we  have 
accepted  the  trustworthiness  of  memory  and  the  uniformity  of  nature 
and  the  proposition,  'an  hypothesis  that  explains  facts,  and  at  the 
same  time  fits  in  with  everything  else  that  we  believe  is  true,'  we 
will  accept  any  other  proposition  without  further  proof  that  has  the 
same  characteristics.  What,  then,  are  the  characteristics  of  these 
beliefs  ?  The  assumption  of  the  trustworthiness  of  memory  has 
two:  (i)  it  is  a  belief  that  we  have  a  natural  tendency  to  make, — /.  e., 
when  we  begin  to  reflect  we  find  ourselves  making  it; — and  (2)  ex- 
perience does  not  deprive  us  of  it.  The  second  characteristic — the 
confirmation  of  experience — must  be  taken  in  a  negative  sense  only. 
Of  positive  verification  of  the  trustworthiness  of  memory,  we  have 
none.  The  thesis  which  Prof.  Gordy  maintains,  then,  with  reference 
to  the  trustworthiness  of  memory  is  this:  What  we  know  on  the 
authority  of  what  we  call  memory  has  no  other  guarantee  than  a 
reality-feeling, a  feeling  which  sometimes  attaches  itself  to  ex- 
periences that  we  know  do  not  represent  realities,  but  which  we 
accept  in  the  case  of  memory,  simply  because  it  is  not  contradicted  by 
other  experiences. 

The  characteristics  of  our  belief  in  the  uniformity  of  nature  are 
the  same;  we  have  a  natural  tendency  to  make  it,  and  our  experience 
is  not  inconsistent  with  it.  What  again,  are  the  characteristics  of 
the  third  assumption :  An  hypothesis  is  true  that  explains  the  facts, 
and  that  takes  its  place  easily  and  naturally  among  our  other  beliefs. 
They  are  the  same.  These,  then,  are  the  characteristics  of  the 
three  assumptions  (beliefs),  one  of  which  underlies  all  reasoning 
whatever,  and  all  of  which  underlie  the  reasoning  of  inductive 
science  and  everyday  life. 


Necessary  truth,  then,  aside — truth,  that  is,  whose  contradictories 
are  'absurd,  inconceivable,  impossible,' — whatever  we  are  asked  to 
believe,  ought  to  be  either  an  ultimate  belief,  *.  e.,  a  belief  having 
the  characteristics  of  being  assumed  through  a  natural  tendency, 
and  of  not  being  interfered  with  by  experience,  or  an  hypothesis 
that  explains  all  the  pertinent  facts,  and  takes  its  place  easily  and 
naturally  among  our  other  beliefs.  The  broader  the  base  of  ex- 
perience upon  which  beliefs,  in  the  negative  sense  explained,  rest, 
the  greater  their  credibility.  If  one  man  accepts  one  hypothesis 
because  it  explains  all  the  facts  he  knows,  and  another  man  a  differ- 
ent hypothesis  because  it  explains,  not  only  the  facts  known  to  the 
first  man,  but  others  equally  certain,  the  last  man's  hypothesis  is 
the  more  credible,  although  we  can  never  say  that  it,  in  turn,  may 
not  have  to  give  place  to  another. 

Such  a  theory,  it  may  be  urged,  opens  the  door  to  unbounded 
credulity.  Not  so,  says  Prof.  Gordy,  for  the  very  prominence  which 
it  gives  to  the  fact  that  inductive  reasoning  is  only  a  process  of 
finding  hypotheses  to  explain  facts,  cannot  but  enforce  the  necessity 
of  caution  on  the  part  of  one  who  accepts  it.  Again,  it  may  be 
urged,  that  its  practical  outcome  is  philosophical  skepticism.  Not 
so,  for  he  only  can  be  charged  with  philosophical  skepticism 
who  holds  that  reason  is  hopelessly  at  war  with  itself;  who  holds 
that,  no  matter  upon  what  subject  or  in  what  direction  he  tries  his 
reason,  it  leads  him  into  an  inextricable  tangle  of  inconsistencies 
and  contradictions.  With  the  common-sense  philosophy,  the  theory 
insists  that  the  attempt  of  the  empiricist  to  find  positive  verification 
in  experience  for  the  first  principles  of  science  cannot  succeed;  with 
empiricism,  it  insists  that  the  attempt  of  the  common-sense  phil- 
osophy to  establish  definite  philosophical  principles  must  end  in 
failure.  Finally,  the  theory  aims  to  give  full  recognition  to  the 
important,  nay,  the  decisive,  part  which  the  emotional  and  voli- 
tional side  of  our  natures  play  in  shaping  our  beliefs. 



Psychiatrie.      TH.   ZIEHEN.     Berlin,    Friedrich  Wreden,    1894.     Pp. 

The  author  has  already  made  several  contributions  to  physiologi- 
cal psychology  and  the  present  text-book  on  psychiatry  is  frankly 
written  on  psychological  lines,  as  distinguished  from  clinical.  Ziehen 
claims  that  the  association  psychology  is  entirely  sufficient  to  explain 
all  the  facts  of  psychiatry  and  over  one  third  of  the  book  is  given  up 

2  I O  PS  YCHIA  TR  Y. 

to  general  psychology,  and  he  discusses  the  disturbances  of  sensa- 
tion, of  ideation  and  memory,  of  the  intellectual  feelings,  of  the 
association  of  ideas,  of  behaviour,  and  the  accompanying  somatic 
symptoms  of  the  psychoses.  The  psychology  is  orthodox,  albeit 
somewhat  dry,  but  is  on  the  whole  satisfactory,  and  furnishes  a  good 
compendium  of  the  perverted  mental  operations  of  mental  disease. 
In  his  classification  Ziehen  makes  but  two  grand  subdivisions, 
psychoses  without  defect  of  intelligence  and  those  with  such  defect. 
Under  the  first  coming  the  simple  psychoses,  mania,  melancholia, 
neurasthenia,  stupor  and  paranoia,  and  the  combined  psychoses — 
the  insanities  secondary  to  the  above.  Of  the  psychoses  with  defect 
of  intelligence  there  are  first  the  states  of  congenital  defect,  idiocy, 
imbecility  and  debility,  and  secondly  the  psychoses  from  acquired 
defects,  the  six  forms  of  dementia,  paralytic,  senile,  secondary  after 
brain  lesions,  secondary  after  functional  psychoses,  epileptic  and 
alcoholic.  In  this  simplification  of  classification  there  are  several 
important  omissions.  Delirium  acutum  is  denied  a  place  as  a  distinct 
clinical  entity,  against  the  opinion  of  the  best  alienists,  and  is  only 
spoken  of  as  occurring  in  acute  hallucinatory  paranoia  and  in  general 
paralysis.  Again,  periodical  and  circular  insanity  are  simply  assigned 
places  as  varieties  of  mania  and  melancholia,  and  under  the  degener- 
ative psychoses.  But  it  is  in  the  field  of  Paranoia  that  recent  Ger- 
man writers  have  especially  run  riot,  and  Ziehen  adds  greatly  to  the 
already  existing  confusion.  The  moment  we  depart  from  Krafft- 
Ebing's  definition  that  paranoia  is  a  chronic  disease,  showing  itself 
exclusively  in  degenerate  individuals,  and  frequently  developing 
from  the  constitutional  neuroses,  and  whose  chief  symptoms  are 
[systematized]  delusions, — we  are  landed  in  inextricable  confusion. 
Ziehen's  acute  hallucinatory  paranoia  terminating  in  recovery  with- 
out mental  defect  in  over  70  per  cent,  of  all  cases,  is  not  *  Verruck- 
theit,'  and  bracketing  them  together  only  tends  to  confusion  and 
false  ideas.  Ziehen  makes  four  forms  of  paranoia,  the  acute  and 
chronic  hallucinatory,  and  the  acute  and  chronic  simple  paranoia. 
In  his  etiological  summary  of  the  psychoses  the  following  etiological 
factors  are  credited  with  producing,  besides  many  other  psychoses, 
different  forms  of  paranoia,  as  follows :  Hereditary  degeneration,  three 
forms;  trauma  capitis,  two  forms;  chronic  alcoholism,  five  forms; 
puberty,  three  forms;  senility,  two  forms;  climacteric,  two  forms; 
puerperal  state,  two  forms;  lactation,  two  forms,  acute  febrile  dis- 
eases, three  forms  [in  reality  confusional  insanity];  epilepsy,  two 
forms;  hysteria,  four  forms;  exhaustion,  four  forms.  It  would  be 
hard  to  conceive  of  confusion  worse  confounded.  Ziehen's  simple 
chronic  paranoia  is  the  only  one  that  fulfils  the  condition  of  a 


•chronic  primary  disease  with  systematized  delusions.  When  it  is 
considered  that  Jean  Jacques  Rousseau,  Ludwig  of  Bavaria  and 
Guiteau  are  classical  examples  of  paranoia  in  its  proper  and  more 
restricted  sense  one  sees  the  folly  of  speaking  of  a  man  suffering 
from  a  blow  on  the  head,  or  from  pneumonia  or  multiple  neuritis, 
where  mental  disturbance  develops,  as  being  a  paranoiac. 

Ziehen  adopts  the  sound  modern  doctrine  that  in  the  immense 
majority  of  cases  gynaecological  treatment  is  entirely  without  in- 
fluence, while  in  other  cases  by  setting  up  new  irritations  it  is  posi- 
tively harmful. 

Katatonia  is  admitted  to  a  position  as  a  clinical  entity,  but  is 
given  as  of  rare  occurrence. 

The  clinical  descriptions  are  clear,  and  the  ten  photographs  are 
remarkably  successful  in  giving  the  physiognomy  of  the  different 


JLes  Mats  intellectuels  dans  la  mttancolie.  G.  DUMAS.  Paris,  Alcan, 

This  little  volume  is  worthy  of  more  than  casual  notice.  M. 
Dumas,  a  pupil  of  Ribot,  belongs  to  the  group  of  contemporary 
psychologists  who  commenced  their  study  with  philosophy  and  meta- 
physics, and  then  changing  face,  have  gone  over  into  medicine. 
MM.  Janet  and  Marillier  did  the  same. 

This  study  on  melancholy  is  Dumas'  thesis  in  medicine.  One  can 
not  praise  too  highly  the  courage  of  those  who,  while  already  having 
degrees  and  titles  as  doctors  of  literature  and  professors  in  schools 
and  colleges,  yet  devote  themselves  to  undergraduate  work  in  medi- 
cine. Their  intellectual  experience  is  peculiar.  Instead  of  com- 
mencing the  study  of  psychology  with  observation  and  fact,  they 
have  approached  it  from  the  side  of  the  more  abstract  and  metaphys- 
ical problems.  They  seem  to  put  the  chariot  before  the  horse;  and 
it  becomes  an  interesting  question  what  attitude  this  leads  them  to 
bring  to  the  empirical  study  of  medicine.  Do  they  still  remain 

Dumas'  study  relates  to  four  women  of  the  asylums  of  St.  Anne 
•and  Salpe'triere  in  Paris,  all  afflicted  with  melancholy.  He  studies 
their  mental  state  with  their  physical  symptoms.  He  distinguishes 
four  forms  of  the  trouble:  Melancholy  with  stupor,  'anxious'  mel- 
ancholy, 'depressive,'  and  'conscious'  melancholy.  The  author 
occupies  himself  mainly  with  the  last  two  kinds. 

His  main  method  of  study  was  by  conversation  with  the  patients, 
seeking  to  gain  their  confidence,  questioning  them  of  their  griefs, 


endeavoring  to  reason  with  them  and  to  reassure  them.  Evidently 
this  is  a  more  fruitful  method  than  direct  experiment  since  the  field 
of  mental  disturbance  is  so  wide.  Yet  the  author  felt  the  need  of 
more  than  this  bird's-eye  view  of  his  patients '  mental  state  and  sought 
to  study  more  exactly  the  rapidity  of  perception  and  memory,  the^ 
naming  of  objects,  and  the  localization  of  sounds,  &c.  His  arrange- 
ments for  this  were  a  little  inexact;  for  without  careful  arrangements 
for  measuring  intervals  of  fractions  of  a  second  no  definite  results  can 
be  obtained.  The  same  may  be  said  of  the  methods  of  studying  physi- 
cal symptoms:  the  author  is  satisfied  with  stating  what  he  saw :  such 
as  attitudes,  changes  of  cordiac  pressure  (from  800  gr.  to  500  gr.,  on 
a  Verdin  sphygmometer,  &c.  He  himself  says  that  he  might  have- 
given  his  results  more  exactness  by  plotting  curves  and  giving  trac- 
ings. Yet  he  concludes:  "I  am  convinced,  after  many  efforts, 
that  the  methods  of  psychophysics  are  not  applicable  to  phenomena 
so  complex  as  those  I  wish  to  study"  (p.  142).  But  would  it  not 
have  been  better  to  publish  his  figures  and  tracings  and  then  to  show 
by  a  critical  discussion  of  them  why  these  exact  methods  are  not 
applicable  to  these  patients  ? 

In  the  opinion  of  the  author  the  ground  of  melancholy  is  not 
emotion,  a  psychological  entity,  but  an  organic  state,  a  depression 
of  the  organism,  a  lack  of  nutrition.  It  is  a  predominant  activity  of 
the  organs  which  produce  the  particular  sensations  contributing  to 
the  mental  state  of  sadness,  anxiety,  depression.  In  this  view  he 
discusses  the  theories  of  James  and  Lange  with  just  criticism.  He 
explains  from  this  point  of  view  the  infectious  character  of  mel- 
ancholy, citing  the  general  vital  depression  which  follows  an  attack 
of  influenza.  "It  may  be  objected,"  says  he,  "that  organic  depres- 
sion is  produced  some  times  as  a  consequence  of  mental  trouble:  the 
fact  can  not  be  denied,  but  it  is  far  less  frequent  than  we  think." 
And  he  cites  instances  of  the  contrary  (p.  100). 

We  need  not  say  that  the  author  is  right  here,  only  we  should 
advise  him,  if  he  would  go  deeper,  to  make  his  distinctions, 
more  exact,  /*.  e.,  to  show  how  physiological  depression  lies  at  the 
basis  of  melancholy.  It  seems  probably  true;  but  depression  is  a 
very  vague  word  and  the  author  finds  depression  present  in  a  variety 
of  diseases  whose  emotional  tone  is  very  different  from  one  another, 
*.  e.,  hysteria,  dyspepsia,  heart  troubles,  &c.  Has  not  the  particular 
organ  affected  in  each  case,  some  special  importance  ?  Would  it  not 
be  interesting  to  enquire  into  the  particular  organic  derangement 
which  is  found  in  each  of  these  troubles  ? 

Although  melancholy  is,  in  the  opinion  of  the  author,  con- 
sciousness of  a  state  of  the  body,  yet  in  certain  instances  it  may 

PS  YCHOL  0  GICA  L  LITER  A  TURE.  2  1 3 

.arise  from  intellectual  conditions  ;  it  may  take  its  origin  in  an  event 
which  distresses,  depresses,  and  finally  enfeebles  the  patient.  So  also 
.melancholy  which  arises  from  an  organic  cause  is  always  aggravated 
by  the  distress  which  results  from  it,  so  that  the  psychological  phe- 
nomenon, be  it  cause  or  effect,  always  plays  an  important  part  in  the 
development  of  the  disease.  There  is  a  series  of  complex  actions 
and  reactions  between  the  physical  and  the  mental. 

The  second  question  which  the  author  studies  is  the  nature  of  the 
intellectual  changes  which  take  place  in  melancholy.  The  principle 
features  of  this  mental  state,  according  to  his  short  and  summary 
descriptions,  are  i.  The  slowing  of  the  mental  flow  and  great  mental 
impoverishment ;  2.  Aboulia,  or  the  incapacity  to  carry  out  an  act 
conceived.  Of  this  the  author  cites  two  examples.  One  of  his  pa- 
tients made  careful  preparations  for  suicide,  but  lacked  courage  at 
the  critical  moment ;  another  wished  to  write  a  letter  but  desisted 
from  scruples  of  doubt.  He  explains  it  as  a  defect  of  idio-motor 
synthesis  ;  3  The  development  of  automatic  acts  sometimes  very 
grave.  One  patient  suddenly  attempted  suicide  and  had  great 
trouble  in  recognizing  herself  as  the  perpetrator.  This  proves  the 
act  automatic.  Indeed  she  thought  the  command  came  from  a 
foreign  will.  In  this  connection  the  author  studies  the  melancholy  of 
Hamlet  in  whom  he  finds  the  signs  which  he  thinks  characteristic  of 
melancholy;  4.  The  last  mental  sign  of  melancholy  and  the  most  im- 
portant is  the  lack  of  logic :  a  patient  weeps  from  organic  causes 
merely  and  without  knowing  why,  or  when  the  necessity  arises  of 
thinking  of  some  old  distress  long  since  forgotten  in  the  past.  She 
nurses  the  thought  of  these  miseries  and  comes  to  believe  that  they 
cause  the  present  grief. 

In  conclusion  we  may  hope  that  the  author  will  continue  and 
deepen  his  study  of  these  questions  and  give  us  more  extended  obser- 
vations in  detail.  As  it  is  his  little  book  is  clear  and  attractive. 

Cliniques  des  maladies  du  systdme  nerveux.     J.  M.  CHARCOT.     Tome  II. 
Paris,  Alcan,  1893.     Pp.  482. 

For  some  time  M.  Charcot,  like  the  true  teacher  that  he  was,  as-' 
sociated  his  students  with  all  his  labors,  and  even  allowed  them  to 
take  his  place  in  some  of  his  clinical  lectures,  to  give  them  oppor- 
tunities to  explain,  to  all  those  who  frequented  the  Salpe"triere,  the 
questions  studied  by  him.  It  is  in  this  way  that  after  preparing  a 
study  on  great  calculators,  in  co-operation  with  M.  Charcot,  I  was 
requested  by  him  to  deliver  a  lecture  at  the  Salpe"triere  on  memory 
for  numbers.  The  present  volume,  prepared  some  months  after  the 

214  NEW  BOOKS. 

death  of  the  eminent  professor,  has  been  written  with  the  co-oper- 
ation of  a  great  number  of  his  pupils;  only  five  or  six  of  M.  Charcot's 
own  lectures  are  included  in  the  volume.  They  bear  on  subjects 
that  do  not  all  equally  concern  psychology;  but  psychologists  may 
read  with  profit  the  lecture  on  hysterical  hemianaesthesia  and  toxic 
anaesthesia  (p.  460),  and  with  still  more  profit  the  one  on  retro- 
anterograde  amnesia.  Let  us  recall  in  a  few  works  what  this  anes- 
thesia consists  in.  The  question  is  of  a  patient  who  after  a  nervous 
shock  and  crisis  had  retrograde  amnesia,  and  also  because  incapable 
of  registering  actual  facts  in  memory.  M.  Charcot  shows 
clearly  that  this  amnesia  is  not  real  but  apparent.  The  patient 
remembers  very  well  the  facts  which  she  seems  to  forget,  because 
she  talks  in  her  sleep  of  facts  of  which  she  has  no  idea  in  her  waking 
state;  and  moreover  in  the  hypnotic  state  she  remembers  all  the 
incidents  of  the  whole  period  since  the  nervous  shock,  (p.  266). 
This  volume  also  contains  equally  interesting  studies  by  Guinon  and 
Blocq  on  states  of  somnambulism. 



The  Philosophy  of  Mind.     G.  T.  LADD.     New  York,  Scribners,  1895. 

Pp.  XIV +  414.     $3- 
Elements  of  Ethics.     J.   H.   HYSLOP.     New    York,    Scribners,    1895. 

Pp.  VII -f  470.     $2.50 
Monism  as  Connecting  Religion  and  Science.     E.  HAECKEL.      London, 

Black;  New  York,  Macmillan,  1894.     Pp.  VIII  +  117. 
The  Factors  in  Organic  Evolution.     D.  S.  JORDON.     Boston,   Ginn  & 

Co.,  1894.     Pp.  V+  149. 
Comte,    Mill  and  Spencer :    An    Outline  of  Philosophy.     J.  WATSON. 

Glasgow,  Maclehose  ;  New  York,  Macmillan,  1895.     Pp.  XX  -f- 

302.     $1.75. 
Mental  Development  in  the  Child  and  the  Race :  Methods  and  Processes. 

J.    M.    BALDWIN.     New  York  and   London,   Macmillan,   1895. 

Pp.  XVII  f  496. 

Amphioxus  and  the  Ancestry  of  the  Vertebrates.     A.  WILLEY.     Colum- 
bia University  Biological  Series,  II.     New  York  and  London, 

Macmillan,  1894,     Pp.  XIV  +  316. 
Transactions  of  the  Illinois  Society  for  Child  Study.     Vol.  I,   No.   i. 

Chicago  and  New  York,  Werner  Co.,   1895.      Pp.   73 -f  XLIII. 

50  cts. 
Imagination  in  Dreams'and  their  Study.     F.  GREENWOOD.     London, 

John  Lane  ;  New  York,  Macmillan,  1894.     Pp.  IX  +  198. 


The  Study  of  Ethics.     A  Syllabus.     J.  DEWEY.     Ann  Arbor,  Register 

Publishing  Co.,  1894.     Pp.  151. 
Elements  of  Psychology.    Syllabus  of  Philosophy,  I.    J.  H.  HYSLOP.    New 

York,  Columbia  College,  1895.     Pp.  131.     $i. 
Popular  Scientific  Lectures.     E.    MACK.     Translated   by  T.   J.    Me- 

Cormack.     Chicago,  Open  Court  Co.,  1895.     Pp.  313.     $i. 
The  Psychology   of  Childhood.      F.    TRACY.      Second    ed.      Boston, 

Heath,  1894.     Pp.  XIII  -f  170. 
Twelfth  Annual  Report  of  the  Bureau  of  Ethnology  (1890-91.)     J.  W. 

POWELL.       Washington,     Gov.     Printing     Office,     1894.       Pp. 

XLVIII  +  742. 
Logic.     C.   SIGWART.     Trans,   from  second  German  edition  by  H. 

Dendy ;   2   vols.     London,    Sonnenshein  ;   New    York,   Macmil- 

lan,  1895.     Pp.  XII  +  391  and  VIII  +  584.     $5.50. 
Lehrbuch  der  Psychologie.      W.   VOLKMANN.       Edited  by    C.   S.   Cor- 
nelius.    Fourth  ed.,  Bd.  II.     Cothen,  Schulze,    1895.     PP- 




We  possess  very  few  observations  on  our  earliest  recollections. 
I  should  like  to  make  a  series  of  observations  in  this  subject.  I 
shall  be  grateful  to  all  persons  who  will  send  answers  to  any  or  all  of 
the  following  questions  : 

1.  Age  and  usual  occupation. 

2.  Do  you  have  good  visual  representations  of  object  in  general ; 
viz.,  can  you  form  a  visual  image  of  an  apple  or  of  a  lamp,  etc.  ? 

3.  Do  you  have  good  auditory  representations  (of  sounds),  viz., 
have  you  auditory  representations  of  the  voices  of  your  friends  ? 

4.  What  is  the  earliest  recollection  of  your  childhood  ?     Please 
describe  it  as  fully  as  possible.     How  clear  is  it,  and  what  was  your 
age  when  the  fact  recollected  occurred  ? 

5.  Had  this  fact  a  particular  importance  in  your  life,  and  if  so,  in/ 
what  way  ? 

6.  Has  anyone  ever  related  this  fact  to  you,  or  do  you  remember 
it  yourself  ? 

7.  Can  you  give  any  explanation  of  this  recollection,  and  if  so,. 

8.  What   is  the   second  recollection  of  your  childhood?     How 
far  apart  are  these  two  in  time  ? 

2l6  NOTES. 

9.  Of  what  period  of  your  life  do  you  first  have  many  recollec- 
tions without  connecting  them  in  the  time  series  of  your  life  ?    How 
do  they  appear ;  are  they  clear,  are  they  visual  or  auditory,  etc.  ? 

10.  From  what  period  of  your  life  do  you  begin  to  have  recol- 
lections of  the  time  series  of  your  life  ? 

11.  Do  you  ever  have  recollections  of  your  childhood  in  your 
dreams  ?     If  so,  what  ? 

Please  send  the  answers  to  these    questions    to  Victor   Henri, 
Leipzig   (Germany),  Johannis  Alice  12.    II. 


Mr.  J.  S.  MacKensie,  M.A.,  has  been  called  to  the  chair  in 
Philosophy  in  University  College,  Cardiff. 

The  Annde  psychologique,  of  which  announcement  was  made  in  an 
earlier  number  of  this  REVIEW,  will  be  issued  in  March,  1895.  The 
subscription  price  (7  fr.,  instead  of  5  fr.,  as  previously  announced) 
may  be  sent  directly  to  M.  Alf.  Binet,  29  Rue  Madame,  Paris,  France. 

We  have  received  Bd.  I,  Heft  i,  of  a  new  serial  publication, 
edited  by  Prof.  E.  Krapelin,  of  the  University  of  Heidelberg,  entitled 
Psychologische  Arbeiten  (Leipzig,  Engelmann,  5  M.) 

The  attention  of  readers  of  the  REVIEW  is  called  to  the  special 
announcements  made  by  the  editors  on  the  second  cover-page  of  this 

VOL.  II.     No.  3.  MAY,  1895, 




Harvard   University. 

In  calling  these  few  notes  a  Preliminary  Report,   I  have 
deliberately  wished  to  ask  for  all  the  indulgence  which  the 
phrase  itself  can  properly  invite.     I  have  none  but  tentative 
considerations  to  present.     I  mean  to  tell  something  of  the 
mere  plan  and  programme  of  a  research  which  I  have  ven- 
tured to  begin,   but  which  I   cannot  hope  ever  rightly  to 
finish,  concerning  the  processes  that  enter  into  the  structure 
and  growth  of  our  imitative  functions.     In  making  my  state- 
ment, I  shall  first  be  led  to  speak,  perhaps  at  far  too  great 
a  length,  about  the  difficult  problem  of  the  possible  classifi- 
cation and  definition  of  the  processes  which  we  can  call,  with 
more  or  less  right,  imitative.     I  shall  do  so  because  my  ex- 
perimental work,   later  briefly  sketched,   has  already    sug- 
gested to  me,  not  only  the  need,  but  at  least  one  motive  of 
such  a  classification.     Then  I  shall  very  briefly  indicate  the 
first  beginning  of  an  experimental  study  of  some  simple  imi- 
tative processes  which  I  have  been  prosecuting  only  since 
October  i,  at  Harvard,  under  the  guidance  of  my  colleague, 
Prof.  Miinsterberg.     If  my  little  sheaves  are,  so  far,  very  nat- 
urally lean,  they  may  still  suggest  the  fact  that  in  this  field 
the  harvest  is  plenteous,  whatever  you  may  think  of  any  of 
the  laborers. 

1  Read  at  the  December  meeting  of  the  American  Psychological  Association,  at 


2  1 8  JOSIAH  RO  YCE. 


If  we  ask   ourselves :    *  what  is    the  definition  of  Imita- 
tation?'  we  soon  find   that  any  effort  to  separate  imitative 
motor  functions,  in  ourselves,  from  those  which  are  not  imi- 
tative, or  imitative  conscious  processes  from  those  mental 
processes  which  are  not  imitative,  is  a  very  difficult  thing. 
Aristotle,  who  first  undertook  to  define   the  psychological 
category  of  imitative  mental  processes,  and  of  their  correla- 
tive expressive  functions,  was  quickly  led  to  extend  the  term 
imitation  until  it  came  to  include  the   most  original  produc- 
tions of  that  poetic  art  which  he  himself  called  more  philo- 
sophical than  history.     No  student  of  the  subject  can  easily" 
avoid  a  wide  extension  of  the  category  in  question.      Prof. 
Baldwin,    in  defining  imitations  (from  a  general  biological 
point  of  view),  by  the  very  wide  characterization  which  iden- 
tifies them  with  *  circular '  reactions,   or  with  '  motor  pro- 
cesses  that    tend    to    reproduce    their    own     stimuli,'     has 
seemed,  I  suppose,  to  many  of  his  readers,  to  have  made  the 
concept  of  imitation  far  too  inclusive  for  psychological  con- 
venience.    All  acts  of  sensuous  attention  are,  of  course,  such 
circular  motor  processes.    Again,  is  the  insistent  brooding  of 
a  mourner,  as  such,  an  imitative  process?  Yet  it,  of  course,  in- 
volves usually  many  circular  reactions.     Yet,   from  another 
side,  there  are  facts  that  Prof.  Baldwin  himself  has  noted  in 
passing,  and  will  regard  as  familiar,  but  that  would  seem  to 
tend  to  make  even  a  still  wider  definition  than  this  one  de- 
sirable.    In    the  laboratory  experiments,    later   to  be  men- 
tioned, I  ask  my  subjects  to  listen  to  a  rhythmic  series  of 
taps  (made  with  an  electric  hammer),  and  then  to  reproduce 
this  series  by  means  of  an  electric  key.     Now,   suppose  that 
a  subject  persistently  guides  himself,  in  this  process,  as  one 
of  my  subjects  has  often  done,  and  as,  no  doubt,  many  people 
would  do,  by  first,  more  or  less  deliberately,  translating  the 
series  of  taps  to  which  he  listens  into  a  visualized  image  of 
pencil  strokes  arranged  at  intervals  on  paper,   or  of  points 
marked  off  on  a  line ;   and  suppose  that  he  hereupon  regularly 
makes  his  key-imitation  by  translating  back  from  the  visual- 
ized space  intervals,  and  perhaps  from  the  muscular  feelings 


of  making  the  visualized  pencil  strokes  into  those  muscular 
movements  which  reproduce  the  sound  at  the  key.  I  sup- 
pose we  should  all  agree  that  here  not  only  is  the  final  re- 
production of  the  original  series  an  imitative  process,  but  the 
translation  into  visual  and  muscular  terms,  which  serves  as 
an  intermediate  instrument,  is  itself  already  an  imitation. 
But,  if  so,  the  intermediate  stage,  which,  be  it  noted,  was 
not,  in  the  subject  noted,  a  spontaneous  accidental  associa- 
tion, but  which  was  the  gradual  and  habitual  outcome  of  all 
the  motor  processes  of  his  careful  attention,  and  which  arose 
as  an  incident  of  his  deliberate  effort  to  reproduce  what  he 
heard, — this  intermediate  stage  is  surely  not  itself  the  result 
of  a  function  that  reproduces  its  own  stimulus,  but  of  a 
function  that  produces,  in  image  form,  contents  which  are 
not  those  of  the  stimulus,  but  which  have  relations  simi- 
lar to  those  presented  in  the  regular  stimulus.  But  that 
imitations  are  thus  often  translations,  reproductions  which 
do  not  even  mean  to  bring  back  the  original  stimulation,  but 
which  do  mean  to  interpret  it,  by  setting  over  against  it  its 
illumining  counterpart  in  terms  of  some  other  set  of  stimu- 
lations, this,  at  least,  on  the  highest  levels  of  consciousness, 
is  a  commonplace.  Aristotle  already  told  us  of  art  as  in- 
tending to  imitate  life  by  producing  before  our  eyes  some- 
thing that  is  in  pretty  marked  contrast  to  life,  e.  g.,  an 
heroic  tragedy.  My  subjects,  at  the  key,  as  you  will  later 
see,  find  themselves  both  voluntarily  and  involuntarily  doing 
a  good  deal  of  this  same  general  sort  of  thing, — their  imita- 
tions being  often  essentially  interpretations,  just  as  a  trans- 
lator imitates  the  original  text  precisely  by  meaning  to  write 
out,  not  the  words  which  he  gets  as  a  stimulus,  but  the  words 
of  another  tongue,  which  may,  as  faithfully  as  possible,  serve 
the  same  ideal  purposes.  But  in  the  same  way,  apart  from 
the  special  motives  of  the  translator,  we  all  have  very  deep- 
set  habits  of  imitating  the  sensations  of  one  sense  by  means 
of  deliberately  recalled  images  belonging  to  another  sense, 
and  so,  by  motor  reactions  that  tend  to  reproduce  the  stim- 
uli to  which  these  latter  images  correspond. 

Thus  the  effort  to  define  imitation,  whether  by  wide  or 
by  narrow  phrases,  is  at  every  point  met  with  pretty  decided 

220  JOSIAH  RO  YCE. 

difficulties.  Ignoring,  as  far  as  possible,  any  but  the  psy- 
chological point  of  view,  I  may,  however,  venture  at  this 
stage  to  suggest  some  of  the  more  prominent  classes  of  imi- 
tative functions,  and  of  functions  more  or  less  obviously  re- 
lated to  imitation,  classes  such  as  I  myself  have  been  led  to 
distinguish.  Whether  any  convenient  generalization,  as  to 
the  extent  of  the  word  imitation,  is  possible,  we  may  then 
briefly  consider. 

To  us  all  the  word  imitation  first  suggests  motor  func- 
tions, such  as  those  of  the  child  that  struts  about  as  a  sol- 
dier, or  that  runs  on  all  fours  as  a  dog,  or  that  learns  to  talk. 
Such  functions  are  very  numerous.  We  observe  them  in 
many  animals,  including  birds.  Their  characteristic  is  that 
the  imitator  is  more  or  less  clearly  aware  of  a  model,  and 
finds  his  own  body  more  or  less  able  to  repeat  certain  usu- 
ally extensive  and  complex  movements  of  this  model.  This 
repetition  gives  satisfaction  to  the  imitator.  Imitation  of 
this  sort  is  to  be  roughly  classified  as  either  more  or  less 
critical.  Sometimes  the  imitator  is  content  with  the  rough- 
est reproduction.  Sometimes  he  is  cautious,  and  is  watch- 
fully anxious  to  do  precisely  as  his  model  does.  A  mocking- 
bird, as  I  at  one  period  often  observed  in  case  of  a  house- 
hold pet,  appears  to  study  with  very  great  care  at  least  some 
of  the  series  of  notes  that  he  reproduces.  Some  children  far 
surpass  others  in  an  early  pedantry  about  the  enunciation 
and  use  of  their  words.  In  any  case,  meanwhile,  the  sub- 
jective experiences  of  the  imitator  are  here,  at  best,  only  in 
part  identical  with  those  given  him  in  the  stimulus  presented 
to  his  senses  by  his  model.  He  hears  sounds,  and  replies  by 
sounds,  but  of  course  he  feels,  more  or  less,  the  muscular  and 
other  organic  disturbances  incident  to  the  reproduction.  He 
sees  the  movements  of  his  model.  He  both  sees  and  feels 
his  own  imitative  movements,  and  in  all  this  he  feels  the 
latter  as  his  own.  In  consequence,  the  imitator  usually  takes 
what  is  often  called  a  decidedly  '  subjective '  sort  of  interest 
in  his  power  to  imitate.  His  activity  has  thus  two  strongly 
contrasted  aspects.  He  watches  his  model,  so  far  as  he 
watches  it  at  all,  with  a  highly  objective  faithfulness.  So 
far,  his  imitation  depends  upon  a  theoretical  and  very  self- 


surrendering  sort  of  outward  scrutiny.  On  the  other  hand, 
he  delights  in  his  own  imitative  powers  as  his  own,  i.  e.,  as 
corporeally  interesting  events  in  his  own  organism,  just  as 
even  the  mocking-bird  very  obviously  does.  On  this  side 
the  activity  is,  in  the  popular  sense  of  the  word,  as  self- 
centred  as  is  eating  or  catching  prey.  That  is,  it  is  an  ac- 
tivity whose  conscious  aspect  involves  an  interest  in  inter- 
organic  experiences.  And,  on  this  side  too,  the  imitative 
process,  in  our  children,  is  a  great  meeting  place  about  which 
all  sorts  of  self-considerate  and  self-conscious  interests  gather. 
Thus  one  sees  how  highly  inter-organic,  or  subjective,  as 
well  as  how  highly  outward-looking,  objective,  the  imitative 
consciousness  in  the  present  class  of  cases  has  to  be.  Hence 
the  enormous  fecundity  and  various  outcome  of  such  imita- 
tive interest.  Vanity  and  conscience,  ideal  devotion  and 
flippant  mockery,  tame  subserviency  and  the  loftiest  origi- 
nality,— all  these  tendencies  alike  may,  and  in  fact  normally 
do,  take  root  in  this  fruitful  soil,  and  any  of  them  may  grow 
into  the  child's  later  character,  and  all  because  he  was,  in  the 
first  place,  disposed  to  repeat  the  complex  motor  processes 
of  his  models,  and  so  was  forced  to  set  off  his  consciousness 
of  his  own  movements  against  his  perception  of  the  move- 
ments of  others,  thus  emphasizing  both  his  ideas  of  himself 
and  his  ideas  of  his  models,  each  set  of  ideas  by  contrast  with 
the  other  set.  Imitation  may  thus  become,  to  use  the  words 
again  in  their  purely  popular  sense,  the  most  self-abnegating 
or  the  most  self-considerate  of  tendencies,  according  as,  in 
the  end,  one  or  the  other  of  these  opposing  drifts  of  attention 
gets  emphasized,  i.  e.,  according  as  one  comes  to  consider 
rather  his  own  imitative  organism  or  the  outside  model. 

So  much  for  a  first  and  most  familiar  class  of  processes 
defined  as  imitative.  But  we  all  of  us  extend  the  word  imi- 
tation to  include  those  intelligent  functions  which  tend  to  the 
voluntary  production  of  external  objects  resembling  certain 
other  objects  called  the  models  of  the  objects  produced. 
Thus,  drawing,  painting,  modeling,  building,  mechanical 
skill  of  all  sorts,  are  universally  named  imitative  functions. 
In  our  own  cases  such  functions,  as  a  class,  are  obviously  al- 
most altogether  derived,  directly  or  indirectly,  from  the 


functions  of  the  former  class  just  characterized.  We  learn, 
namely,  to  reproduce  things,  in  whole  or  in  part,  by  first 
having  learned  to  imitate  people.  Mechanical  skill  may  early 
become  self-directing.  But  it  is  probably  always,  at  the 
start,  socially  guided.  Psychological  complications  are,  ac- 
cordingly, here  of  much  the  sort  as  in  the  foregoing  class  of 
cases.  Our  imitations  of  objects  involve  vast  numbers  of 
relatively  controllable  conscious  processes  besides  our  per- 
ception of  the  finished  products  which  resemble  the  stimu- 
lating models.  And  here,  too,  in  consequence,  both  our  rela- 
tively objective,  or  outward-looking,  and  our  relatively  sub- 
jective, or  inward-looking,  interests  get  a  correlative  devel- 
opment as  we  learn  to  imitate — a  development  which  may 
have  the  utmost  complexity,  and  the  most  momentous  psy- 
chological consequences.  On  the  whole,  however,  the  imi- 
tation of  things  generally  tends,  as  they  say,  to  send  us  '  out 
of  ourselves,'  i.  e.,  outside  of  our  interest  in  the  processes  of 
our  own  organisms,  still  more  than  does  the  imitation  of  the 
mere  acts  of  people.  Our  imitative  deed  is  transient;  but, 
when  we  make  something  by  the  deed,  its  product  here  re- 
mains to  calm  our  more  anxious  or  our  vainer  interest  in  our 
own  motor  processes  as  such.  Hence  it  is  that  musicians 
are  more  subjective  in  mood  than  are  architects;  and  it  is 
easier  to  be  vain  about  matters  of  social  etiquette  than  about 
one's  skill  as  a  carpenter,  in  case  one  has  any  such  skill; 
while,  to  pass  to  another  case  where  imitation  is  complicated 
with  originality,  nobody  can  judge  his  own  book  while  it  is 
in  press  as  he  can  after  it  is  in  cold  print  and  binding  before 

Now,  I  have  laid  stress  upon  the  factors  present  in  these 
two  classes  of  cases  of  imitation,  because  I  have  meant  to  use 
them  to  illustrate  the  general  nature  of  imitation  itself.  In 
these  two  classes  of  cases  imitation  is  not  merely,  as  a  psy- 
chological process,  the  reproduction  of  a  series  of  sense  stimu- 
lations, or  of  external  perceptions  by  means  of  a  series  of 
motor  processes ;  but  it  is  something  still  more  complex.  It 
is  not  only  a  process  by  which  we  reproduce  one  set  of  data 
by  means  of  another  set  of  data  like  the  first,  but  it  is  also  a 
process  by  which  we  get.  two,  setst  of  data  whose  inevitable 

PRELIM  IN  A  R  Y  REPOR  T  ON  IMI TA  TION.  2  2  3 

•contrasts   are   as   interesting   and   as   instructive    to   us   as 
their   purposed    resemblances.       We   get   an  interpretation 
of  the  perceived  model  through  the  imitation  of  it.     On  the 
other  hand,  to  say  that  imitation,   in  these  cases,  is  an  act 
whose  main  motive  is  to  interpret  my  perceptions  by  means 
of  my  deeds,  is  indeed  true ;   but  of  course,  so  far,  the  same 
might  be  said  of  all  those  acts,  such  as  looking,  listening,  ap- 
proaching an  object,  grasping,  touching,  handling,  exploring, 
in  the  perceptive  field, — of  all  acts,  in  short,   which  involve 
intellectually  valuable  motor  processes.      What,  then,  is  the 
characteristic  feature  of  the  imitative  acts  in  the  mentioned 
classes  of  cases  ?     Does  it  not  obviously  lie  in  the  fact  that 
my  interpretation  of  what  I  am  usually  said  to  perceive  out- 
side of  my  organism,  in  the  external  world,  is,  in  the  case  of 
these  classes  of  imitations,  conditioned  upon  my  setting  over 
against  my  perceptions  a   series  of  motor  processes,  or  of 
perceived  results  of  motor  processes,  which  in  its  wholeness 
contrasts  with  the  other  series  in  the  one  principal  fact  that 
the  motor  processes,  the   imitative  deeds  or  their  results, 
appear  to  me  relatively  controllable,  plastic,  reproducible  at 
will,    while   otherwise   the    two   series   are   largely   similar. 
When  I  learn  to  grasp  an  apple,  the  grasping  is  indeed,  once 
learned,    an    easily    reproducible   and  so  controllable  deed, 
and  on  suggestion  is  remembered  as  such.     But  when  I  learn 
to  say  apple,  upon   hearing  the   word  pronounced,  the  act, 
once  in  my  power,  is  felt  as  controllable,  but  as  to  result  it 
resembles  its   model  (namely,  the  word  apple,  pronounced 
by  my  neighbor) — something  that  concerns  not  its  controlla- 
bleness,  but  some   of  its  other   characters.     Thus,  in  these 
cases,  imitation  is  definable,  from  the  psychological  side,  as 
an  act  that  interprets  an  uncontrollable  perceptive  series  by 
setting  over  against  it  a  series  of  experiences  that  appear  to 
be  similar  to  it  in  content,  but  to  be  also  in  contrast  with  it 
by  virtue  of  their  controllableness.     Or,  again,  an  imitation 
is  an  act  that  tends  to  the  interpretation  of  what  is  beyond 
my  power,  or  is  independent  of  my  movements,  by  contrast- 
ing it  with  what  otherwise  resembles  it,  but  is  in  my  power, 
and  is  a  result  of  my  movements.     This  feature  of  imitation, 
viz.,  that  it  accomplishes  the  aim  of  throwing  light  on  the 

224  JOSIA H  RO  YCE. 

uncontrollable  percept  by  setting  the  controllable  deed  be- 
side it,  is,  I  suppose,  the  principal  intellectual  function  of 
the  higher  imitative  life.     That  the  light  thrown  on  the  pro- 
cesses is  throughout  relative,  that  what  I  perceive  outside 
me  helps  me  to  know,  by  contrast,  my  own  imitative  act,  as 
well  as  the  latter  helps  me  to  know  the  former, — this,  after 
what  has  been  said,  needs  no  further  illustration.     At  the 
outset,  of  course,  we  make  no  clear  sundering  between  what 
goes  on  inside  our  organisms  and  what  we  perceive  outside 
them.     My  point  here  is,  it  is  our  imitation  that  helps  us- 
first  to  do  so  by  first  bringing  the  mentioned  contrast  to  light. 
Now,  however,  as  helping  us  on  to  another  class  of  imita- 
tive functions,  we  may  note  the  fact  that  where  I  thus  use 
imitative  processes  to  set  off  or  to  interpret  perceived  facts 
that  are  outside  of  my  organism,  it  is  not  necessary  that  the 
similarity  between  the  externally  observed  and   the  inter- 
nally produced  processes,  between  the  original  and  its  so- 
called  copy,  should  have  any  one  established  or  even  desired 
degree  of  closeness.      I   insist,  it  is  often  the   contrast  as 
much  as  the  agreement  between  the  two  that  interests  us. 
In  every  case  so  far  the  imitation  differs  from  what  it  copies 
by  virtue  of  the  associated  muscular  and  affective  accompani- 
ments which  make  the  imitation  our  own,  as  distinct  from 
what  we  merely  observe  without.     These  accompaniments 
may  involve  all  the  emotions  of  play.     In  that  case  the  imi- 
tator very  frequently  wants  his  imitation  to  be  unlike  as  well 
as  like  its  original.     One  plays  in  one's  own  original  fashion. 
Mocking  is  often  more   or  less  consciously  untrue   to  its 
model.     «  This  is  what  you  do/  we  say  to  the  person  whom 
we  mock.     But  thereupon  what  we  do  is  only  a  pretended 
imitation — an  exaggeration,   of  whose  grotesque   unreality 
we  then  make  an  ideal.     Children  surely  often  do  this.     The 
reasons  for  such  action  lie  deep  in  the  nature  of  the  play 
motives.     The  mocking  imitation  is  as  imperfect  a  copy  as 
are  often  the  actions  of  kittens  at  play,  when  compared  with 
the  behavior  of  grown  cats  that  are  seriously  fighting. 

If  an  imitation  thus  often  sets  off  our  consciousness  of  the 
original  by  virtue  of  the  very  contrast  that  mingles  with  the 
similarity,  it  is  plain  that  we  may  look  to  find  imitations  that 


not  only  by  accident,  but  intentionally,  represent  one  set  of 
sense  data  in  terms  of  activities  that  give  us  data  belonging 
to  another  sense  or  to  any  otherwise  contrasted  group  of 
experiences.  The  imitation  of  a  series  of  sounds  by  a  series 
of  movements  involves,  of  course,  as  in  dancing  or  in  beating 
time,  a  vast  number  of  acquired  habits  of  conplex  nature. 
Yet  the  fact  remains  that  such  imitations  do  both  fascinate 
and  enlighten  us.  This  principle  of  the  tendency  to  deliberate 
idealization  of  our  imitations,  to  deliberate  deviations  from 
the  literal,  one  finds,  then,  in  the  most  varied  forms,  in  play, 
in  art,  in  the  far-reaching  and  deep-seated  tendency,  very 
complex  in  its  origin,  to  translate  space-relations  into  time 
relations  and  vice  versa  ;  in  every  form  of  fondness  for  what 
one  may  call  symbolical  motor  processes,  and  so,  finally, 
with  very  momentous  consequences,  in  all  those  motor  pro- 
cesses that  are  connected  with  the  growth  of  our  theoretical 
thinking.  That  our  thoughts  are,  in  this  general  sense,  con- 
scious processes  by  which  we  constantly  mean  to  imitate  the 
truth  of  the  things  that  we  experience,  is  perfectly  obvious. 
Equally  obvious  is  the  fact  that  to  think  experience  is  to 
translate  it  into  terms  which  are  decidedly  foreign  to  its 
character  as  it  comes  to  us,  apart  from  such  ideal  reconstruc- 
tion, and  in  its  first  intention.  Now  thinking  accompanies 
motor  processes,  abbreviated  and  truncated  and  rendered 
abstract  in  all  sorts  of  ways,  but  very  obviously  and  highly 
imitative  in  all  the  cases  where  we  get  them  in  any  relatively 
unabridged  form.  The  gesture  language  is  a  case  in  point. 
It  gives  the  gesturer  trains  of  experience  of  a  very  complex 
character,  which  are  in  a  summary  and  more  or  less  sym- 
bolic fashion  similar  to  the  primary  trains  of  experience 
which  by  his  gestures  he  undertakes  to  describe.  For  ges- 
tures we  who  speak  have  now  learned  to  substitute  trains  of 
words,  which  we  follow  with  an  endless  chain  of  attentive 
processes  shifting  from  one  series  of  images  to  another. 
But  the  series  of  attentive  processes,  as  it  follows  now  these, 
now  those  images,  gives  us  a  total  inner  experience  which 
we  call  an  account  of  the  experienced  reality  beyond  the 
thinking  process.  The  value  of  this  account  we  judge 
by  its  resemblance,  not  in  detail,  but  in  its  total  net- 

226  JO  SI  AH  RO  YCE. 

work  of  related  elements,  to  those  aspects  of  the  relatively 
external  experience  which  our  thinking  means  to  emphasize. 
And  yet,  on  the  other  hand,  how  unlike  their  originals  our 
abstract  ideas  mean  to  be.  How  far  is  the  thinker's  imita- 
tion from  being  a  mere  inner  reproduction  of  the  external 
experience  about  which  he  thinks?  It  is  the  very  contrast 
which  here  enlightens  us,  when  it  is  accompanied  by  a  con- 
sciousness of  the  sort  of  agreement  which  we  all  the  time 
intend.  In  symbolic  imitation  the  imitative  subject  means 
to  neglect  all  of  his  model  except  his  own  chosen  aspect  of 
it ;  and  even  this  aspect  he  generally  means  to  reproduce  in 
terms  of  a  sort  of  inner  experience  which  differs  from  it  as 
widely  as  the  data  of  one  sense  can  differ  from  those  of 

So  far  I  have  mentioned  ordinary  imitations  of  the  doings 
of  our  comrades,  acquired  tendencies  to  reproduce  or  pic- 
ture things,  and  then  the  endlessly  numerous  cases  of  con- 
sciously idealized,  playfully  falsified  or  symbolically  abbre- 
viated imitations  of  the  interesting  aspects  of  things.  Is  it 
not  fair  to  call  all  these  manifestations  of  the  imitative  ten- 
dency? But  some  one  will  say,  as  people  have  said  of  both 
Tarde's  and  Prof.  Baldwin's  uses  of  the  term  imitation,  that 
to  go  on  in  this  fashion  is  in  the  end  to  include  pretty  much 
all  psychical  processes  in  the  field  covered  by  the  word.  If 
imitation  occurs  wherever  there  are  relatively  inner  or  or- 
ganic experiences — e,  g.,  images  or  trains  of  images  which, 
in  some  aspect,  resemble  certain  relatively  external  or  per- 
ceptive experiences — then  where  can  one  name  an  experience 
involving  any  images  whatever,  or  any  organic  adjustment, 
which  will  not  have  something  imitative  about  it?  I  reply 
that,  if  the  foregoing  classes  of  cases  were  all  that  I  had  to 
consider,  I  myself  should  be  disposed  to  draw  the  lines 
about  the  class  of  processes  to  be  called  imitative  from  a 
purely  psychological  point  of  view,  in  this  way  :  An  imitation 
either  is  or  accompanies  a  sort  of  motor  adjustment.  And, 
now,  what  sort?  I  answer:  So  far  as  we  have  yet  gone,  an 
imitation  appears  as  an  adjustment  that  leads  to  the  empha- 
sizing or  interpreting  of  a  train  of  relatively  external  expe- 
riences, by  virtue  of  the  fact  that  the  mental  accompaniment 


of  this  adjustment  is  a  train  of  relatively  inner  experiences 
(muscular  feelings,  or  images  of  any  sense  you  please,  or 
affective  states),  while  the  similarity  of  the  train  of  internal 
experiences  to  the  train  of  external  experiences  serves,  in 
the  midst  of  the  mutual  contrasts  of  the  two  trains,  to  make 
livelier  the  consciousness  of  each  series,  when  viewed  side 
by  side  with  the  other.  Or,  more  briefly,  an  imitation  is  a 
more  or  less  conscious  motor  adjustment  that  tends  to  set  off 
a  series  of  given  experiences  by  furnishing  from  within  the 
conscious  counterpart  of  some  one  or  more  of  the  aspects  of 
the  first  series — a  counterpart  which  is  both  like  and  unlike 
the  original,  and  whose  contrast  is  therefore  often  as  in- 
structive as  its  similarity. 

Essential  to  this  notion  of  imitation  is  so  far  the  fact  that 
the  consciousness  of  the  imitator  is  as  truly  a  consciousness 
of  his  adjustment  as  it  is  a  consciousness  of  his  model.  To 
be  sure,  at  the  outset,  an  infant  has  no  clear  idea  of  himself; 
but  the  point  is  that  the  ideas  of  inner  and  outer  thus  get 
clarified.  The  two  must  be  more  or  less  clearly  held  apart. 
How  clearly  depends  upon  what  grade  of  consciousness  you 
are  considering.  Moreover,  the  model  is  not  a  simple  sense- 
fact,  like  a  color,  but  is  always,  where  we  speak  of  imita- 
tion, a  complex  series  of  facts.  We  imitate  the  complex. 
We  may  by  mere  association  reduplicate  the  elementary,  but 
in  that  case  we  have  no  true  instance  of  imitation.  Where 
association  by  similarity  takes  place  between  a  relatively 
elementary  fact  of  sense  and  an  image,  there  is  no  imitation : 
(i)  because  one  isn't  at  all  conscious  of  this  association  as  in- 
volving what  we  call  his  motor  adjustment  as  such ;  (2) 
because  in  many  cases  the  associated  elements  tend  to  blend, 
and  not  to  set  each  other  off ;  and  (3)  because  by  imitation 
we  always  mean  a  consciously  complex  process  of  adjustment. 
Imitation,  in  the  classes  of  cases  heretofore  considered,  does 
not  mean,  therefore,  mere  similarity  of  relatively  inner  and 
relatively  outer  experiences,  but  the  similarity  of  a  com- 
plex motor  series  or  of  its  complex  result  to  a  complex 
perceptive  series,  the  conscious  interest  lying  in  the  anti- 
thesis of  the  two  as  well  as  in  their  mutual  support.  The 
two  are  not  merely  alike,  but  each  is  more  or  less  consciously 

228  JO  SI  AH  RO  YCE. 

referred  to  the  other.     The  imitation  means  the  model,  as 
well  as  chances  to  resemble  it. 

But,  if  we  now  proceed  one  step  further,  we  do  indeed 
seem  to  meet  with  functions  which  an  external  observer  calls 
imitative,  but  which  apparently  do  not  conform  to  the  fore- 
going definition.  Many  of  our  imitations  occur  with  very 
little  consciousness.  We  sit  when  others  sit,  rise  when  they 
rise,  yawn  when  they  yawn ;  follow  fashions  without  any 
clear  intention  to  do  so,  and  catch  by  contagion  tricks  of 
gesture  and  facial  expressions,  as  well  as  states  of  emotion. 
Panic-fear,  in  all  gregarious  animals,  involves  functions  that 
seem  clearly  imitative.  Yet  here  one  surely  does  not  mean 
to  observe  either  the  likeness  or  the  contrast  between  the 
outer  and  the  inner  experiences.  In  fact,  a  contagious  emo- 
tion, such  as  terror  or  a  violent  sympathetic  faintness  at  the 
sight  of  another's  pain,  often  seems  rather  to  forbid  the  ap- 
pearance of  any  clear  or  conscious  sympathy  with  one's 
fellow  as  an  objectively  real  person,  and  one  gets  lost  in 
one's  own  feelings  even  while  one  is  imitative.  Yet  even 
here,  although  the  antithesis  leaves  consciousness,  and  the 
relatively  subjective  series  of  inter-organic  processes  and  ex- 
periences does  not  help  one  to  interpret  the  relatively  exter- 
nal facts  in  any  deliberate  way,  it  still  remains  true  that  we 
have  the  one  series  emphasized  by  and  dependent  upon  the 
other;  and  while  the  imitator  himself  does  indeed  lose  sight 
of  any  clear  relation  of  himself  to  his  model,  the  external 
observer  calls  this  an  imitation,  and  not,  like  the  independ- 
ent nest-building  of  two  birds  of  the  same  species,  a  mere 
resemblance  in  function,  because  the  observer  can  see  what 
the  imitator  neglects — the  close  relation  of  dependence  be- 
tween the  two  resembling  and  contrasting  series. 

Now  I,  of  course,  cannot  doubt  that,  biologically  speak- 
ing, the  tendencies  towards  a  relatively  unconscious  con- 
formity of  an  animal's  conduct  to  the  conduct  of  its  herd- 
fellows,  lie  deeper  than  the  more  conscious  and  intelligent 
sorts  of  explicitly  discriminating  imitation  which  I  have  so 
far  defined  in  this  paper.  But  the  question  still  remains  as 
to  what  it  is  about  these  relatively  unconscious  sorts  of  imi- 
tation which  makes  them  the  basis  of  so  much  that  is  later 


important  for  the  higher  psychological  functions.  I  venture  * 
then  still  to  point  out  that  the  unconsciously  imitative  gre- 
garious animal  is  still  going  through  motor  processes,  such 
as  place,  side  by  side  with  various  series  of  his  sensory 
stimuli,  a  great  number  of  inter-organic  series  of  processes. 
These  processes,  on  the  one  hand,  extend  far  beyond  the 
mere  adjustment  of  his  sense  organs  to  the  stimulation, 
while,  on  the  other  hand,  they  tend  to  emphasize  these  sense 
stimulations,  not  merely  by  repeating  them,  but  by  giving 
them  companions  which  in  various  ways  resemble  them,  and 
which  therefore  make  them  more  effective  in  leading  to  fur- 
ther conduct.  When  chickens  suffer  from  contagious  fright, 
they  all  repeat  the  warning  cry  of  the  flock.  Of  what  use  is 
the  repetition?  Each  fowl  is  in  consequence  warned,  not 
only  by  his  neighbor  but  by  himself,  and  the  inner  warning 
comes  not  only  to  the  ear,  but  also  through  just  those 
motor  sensations  and  affective  inner  states  which  accompany 
this  motor  adjustment.  No  other  fowl  could  warn  this 
one  as  the  bird  can  warn  itself.  What  is  heard  without 
already  puts  each  fowl  somewhat  on  the  alert.  But  the 
inner  resonance  of  the  imitative  act  makes  far  more  impres- 
sive this  whole  experience  of  danger.  So  then,  even  here,  » 
an  imitative  act  appears  to  me  to  be  not  so  much  an  act  that, 
in  Prof.  Baldwin's  phrase,  tends  to  repeat  its  own  stimu- 
lus, as  an  act  that  tends  to  reinforce,  emphasize,  signalize, 
clarify  its  complex  stimulus  by  adding  thereto  other  and 
parallel  series  of  internal  or  organic  stimuli,  which  by  their 
similarity  as  a  series  shall  support,  while  by  their  differences 
they  shall  in  general  supplement,  the  stimulus  in  question. 
This  inter-organic  imitation  and  supplementing  of  one  series 
of  stimuli  by  a  series  of  inner  experiences  is,  as  a  fact,  very 
naturally  connected  in  similarly  organized  beings  with  a 
behavior  that,  externally  viewed,  appears  imitative,  even 
when  the  creature  in  question  is  not  interested  in  this  imita- 
tive character.  Simple  attention  need  not,  from  my  present 
point  of  view,  be  regarded  as  involving  imitation,  although 
simple  attention  does  involve  a  circular  reaction  which  tends 
to  the  repetition  of  its  own  stimulation.  But  if  attention  is 
supported  by  the  appearance  of  a  series  of  experiences, 

230  JO  SI  A  H  RO  YCE. 

motor  or  emotional,  which  are  produced  through  the  motor 
adjustment,  and  which  taken  together,  run  parallel  to  a 
series  of  stimuli  and  resemble  it,  thereby  emphasizing  and 
supplementing  it,  then  one  has  an  imitative  function. 

I  conclude,  then,  so  far  in  general,  that  imitative  func- 
tions seem  to  me  to  be  those  which  tend  to  emphasize,  to 
support,  or  on  higher  levels  to  interpret,  a  complex  series  of 
sensory  stimulations,  by  producing,  as  their  accompaniment, 
another  series  of  inter-organic  experiences  which  resembles 
as  a  whole  the  first  series,  but  which  involves  in  general 
decidedly  different  activities  of  the  organism,  in  addition  to 
those  of  the  organs  receiving  the  stimuli.  Lower  cases  of 
imitative  functions  already  show  us  the  contrast,  in  the 
midst  of  the  similarity,  between  the  imitative  process  and  its 
sensory  stimuli.  Higher  up  this  contrast  is  itself  made  an 
object  of  consciousness.  Imitation  and  model  are  contrasted 
series  of  presentations  whose  relation  keeps  them  apart. 
And  hence  it  is  that,  as  I  myself  suppose,  imitation  is,  psy- 
chologically speaking,  the  one  source  of  our  whole  series  of 
conscious  distinctions  between  subject  and  object,  thought 
and  truth,  deed  and  ideal,  impulse  and  conscience,  inner 
world  and  external  world — in  short,  of  all  those  familiar  and 
fundamental  rational  distinctions  which  psychology  has  hith- 
erto found  so  baffling.  The  contrast  between  model  and 
imitation  is,  to  my  mind,  the  first  appearance  in  conscious- 
ness of  that  differentiation  which  in  the  end  makes  internal 
and  external  experience  not  merely  qualitatively  different — 
as,  of  course,  they  more  or  less  are  from  the  first — but  con- 
sciously discriminated,  as  at  first  they  seem  not  to  be. 

Biologically  speaking,  I  should  fancy  that  imitation  might 
be,  in  the  end,  explicable  by  something  even  more  funda- 
mental still  than  Prof.  Baldwin's  circular  reactions,  viz.,  by 
those  generally  cooperative  tendencies  which  must  lie  at  the 
basis  of  all  evolution  in  organisms  consisting  of  multitudes 
of  cells.  These  involve  amongst  their  number  tendencies 
to  direct  functional  agreement.  What  occurs  in  one  part  of 
an  organism  must  in  general  be  repeated  with  variations 
elsewhere,  in  so  far  as  the  cells  of  various  regions  may  be 
of  the  same  general  type,  and  are  meant  permanently  to 


cooperate.  Such  inter-organic  repetitions  of  disturbance 
(attended  with  wide  contrasts,  which  run  side  by  side  with 
the  functional  agreements)  we  have  in  all  those  recently 
much  studied  physiological  accompaniments  of  emotion  ;  and 
in  all  those  phenomena  of  functional  nervous  equivalents 
which  attract  one's  attention  in  the  history  of  the  varying 
symptoms  of  many  a  complex  nervous  case.  Here  what  hap- 
pens to  one  set  of  cells  may  tend  sooner  or  later  to  be  repre- 
sented by  a  more  or  less  contrasted  functional  equivalent 
in  some  other  set  of  cells.  Now  these  things  are  not  yet 
cases  of  imitation.  But  they  suggest  a  basis  upon  which 
imitative  functions  may  have  grown. 

I  said  that  my  few  experiments  have  already,  without  as 
yet  proving  anything,  suggested  to  me  the  need  of  some 
such  analysis  as  the  foregoing.  The  scope  of  the  experi- 
ments themselves  is  comparatively  narrow.  Yet  some  of 
you  will  perhaps  think  it  already  too  wide. 

I  have  desired  to  get  some  notion  of  the  inner  conscious- 
ness and  of  the  outer  effectiveness  of  a  person  engaged  in 
acquiring  skill  in  some  imitative  process.  This  process,  as 
I  desired  it,  should  be  fairly  simple,  and  yet  complex  enough 
to  involve  the  cooperation  of  a  number  of  different  habits, 
interests  and  forms  of  attention  in  the  accomplishment  of 
one  end.  I  decided,  by  Prof.  Miinsterberg's  advice,  to 
choose  the  process  of  imitating  rhythmic  series  of  taps  which 
were  to  be  made  at  controllable  intervals  by  means  of  an 
electric  hammer,  and  imitated  with  an  electric  key  by  the 
subjects.  In  choosing  the  particular  series  of  taps,  I  have 
followed  my  own  choice  and  responsibility,  and  must  con- 
fess that  I  have  tried  several  rhythmic  series  that  any  more 
experienced  psychological  experimenter  than  myself  might 
have  easily  regarded  as  too  complex  to  promise  any  definite 
results.  Yet  so  far,  despite  various  inevitable  eddies  in'  my 
little  stream  of  experience,  I  have  not  been  disappointed  at 
the  wealth  of  suggestions  that  have  come  to  me.  I  have  re- 
garded the  so-called  time-sense  aspect  of  my  experiments  as 
a  necessary,  but  for  my  purposes  a  very  subordinate,  aspect. 
The  nature  of  the  rhythmic  consciousness  itself  comes  in  my 
way,  but  rhythmic  consciousness  is  here  only  the  instru- 

232  JO  SI  AH  RQ  YCE. 

ment,  not  the  end.  The  chief  aim  for  the  first  has  been  to 
get  a  pretty  careful  series  of  records  of  the  facts,  and  to 
wait  for  experience  to  indicate  the  best  further  procedure. 
The  facts  collected  have  so  far  been  objective  records  of  the 
imitations  and  a  constant  series  of  subjective  records  written 
down  at  once,  after  such  experiment,  by  the  hands  of  the 
subjects  concerned. 

As  for  the  physical  mechanism  used,  a  mechanism  which, 
as  I  frankly  confess,  better  hands  than  mine  generally  guide, 
it  is  in  summary  this:  On  the  axle  of  a  kymograph  drum 
wheels  revolve  armed  with  platinum  points,  arranged  at 
pleasure  for  each  rhythmic  series  as  used,  the  points  succes- 
sively dipping  into  mercury  contacts  at  the  lowest  point  in 
each  revolution  of  their  respective  wheels.  The  completed 
contact  gives  in  each  case  one  stroke  of  an  electric  hammer. 
The  moment  of  each  stroke  is  recorded  by  an  electric  pen 
on  the  kymograph  drum,  the  record  itself  being  controlled 
by  a  tuning-fork  tracing.  Any  one  rhythmic  series  having 
been  heard  through  by  the  subject  (who  sits  holding, 
ready  for  his  response,  a  metallic  key  especially  prepared 
for  these  experiments),  the  subject,  at  the  word  'ready,' 
repeats  the  rhythm  that  he  has  heard,  by  making  suc- 
cessive connections  between  the  point  of  the  key  and  a 
mercury  contact  beneath.  The  key  itself  is  arranged  so  as 
to  be  noiseless,  or  nearly  so,  in  its  own  movements.  At 
times  it  is  arranged  in  the  same  circuit  with  the  hammer, 
and  then  the  subject,  in  making  the  contacts,  tries  to  repeat 
the  very  sounds  which  he  has  heard  and  at  the  same  inter- 
vals. At  other  times  this  connection  is  avoided,  and  then 
the  subject  makes  his  imitative  contacts  with  a  '  silent  key ' 
depending  on  the  inner  light  only.  Every  imitative  series 
of  key-contacts  is  recorded  on  the  same  drum  with  the 
rhythmic  series  of  hammer  strokes  which  was  to  be  imitated. 
The  routine  of  each  experiment  is  simply  that  the  kymo- 
graph is  started;  the  subject,  who  cannot  see,  although  he 
does  indeed  hear  the  rotation  of  the  mechanism,  hears  the 
word  '  ready,'  and  then  the  series  of  hammer  taps  to  be  imi- 
tated. These  taps,  of  course,  cannot  under  these  circum- 
stances be  made  perfectly  uniform,  owing  to  the  uncontrolla- 


ble  variations  of  the  hammer's  relation  to  the  magnet;  but 
they  have  no  regular  emphasis,  and  subjects  learn  to  ignore 
the  more  ordinary  of  the  caprices  of  the  hammer.  The 
rhythm  being  completed,  there  is  a  very  brief  pause  for  re- 
adjustment, when  the  subject,  at  the  repeated  word  'ready,' 
proceeds  to  beat  off  on  the  key  as  exact  an  imitation  as  he 
can  of  what  he  has  heard.  He  then  at  once  records  dated 
and  numbered  notes  of  his  subjective  experiences  during  the 
experiments,  and  the  records  are  filed. 

So  far  most,  although  by  no  means  all,  of  the  records 
have  been  taken  in  work  upon  two  rhythms,  both  complex 
enough  to  make  the  labor  of  apperceiving  and  reproducing 
them  with  relative  exactitude  decidedly  noteworthy.  They 
have  first  been  learned,  then  practised  upon  daily,  or  as 
often  as  possible,  their  rates  being  very  widely  varied,  while 
keeping  the  relations  of  the  intervals  constant.  Separate 
series  of  experiments  upon  the  estimation  of  slight  changes 
of  rate,  apart  from  imitation,  have  also  been  recorded.  And 
a  considerable  number  of  records  have  been  taken  of  the 
skill  of  the  subjects  in  independently  giving  and  varying  by 
minimal  steps  each  rhythm  after  it  had  been  learned.  Of 
late  one  of  the  rhythms  has  been  deliberately  distorted  by 
introducing  irregularly  placed  new  points  into  three  of  its 
more  noteworthy  intervals;  and  the  vast  change  thus  sud- 
denly introduced  into  an  already  well-established  series  of 
conscious  data  has  been  studied,  both  objectively  and  sub- 

The  subjects  include  at  present  four  women  and  four 
men,  all  of  a  fair  although  decidedly  varied  amount  of  intro- 
spective preparation.  Three  have  a  fair  musical  training. 
One  of  these  is  especially  delicate  in  rhythmical  perception. 
One  of  the  unmusical  subjects,  on  the  other  hand,  is  espe- 
cially imperfect  as  to  all  clearer  rhythmical  consciousness. 
Another  is  a  Japanese.  Questions  have  been  asked  for  the 
subjective  records  as  the  state  of  the  experiments  seemed  to 
indicate.  Above  all,  I  have  wanted  to  know  what  it  means 
to  the  subject  to  try  to  catch,  to  hold,  to  make  an  ideal  for 
action,  of  this  series  of  monotonous  taps  with  their  varying 
intervals.  I  have  now  about  200  of  these  subjective  notes, 

2  34  JO  SI  AH  RO  YCE. 

corresponding    to    about    1000    repetitions   of    the    various 

Well,  so  far,  I  have  been  especially  struck  by  the  fact 
that  the  process  of  holding  for  imitation  involves,  according 
to  the  records,  the  most  widely  varying  subjective  pro- 
cesses, which  do  not  seem  to  be  constant,  even  for  one  sub- 
ject, in  any  such  way  as  you  would  expect.  One  catches 
the  rhythm  and  prepares  to  repeat  it  by  means  of  what  ap- 
pear in  consciousness  as  the  most  heterogeneous  materials. 
There  is  first,  of  course,  the  case  where  one  tries,  volunta- 
rily or  half  involuntarily,  devices  which  are  either  con- 
sciously abstract  sorts  of  imitation,  such  as  counting,  or  else 
involve  the  use  of  voluntary  muscular  movements,  of  hand 
or  of  foot,  made  in  time  to  the  rhythm  while  one  hears  it. 
But  curiously  enough,  in  many  cases,  and  with  some  of  the 
subjects,  devices  of  this  kind  are  felt  as  rather  hindering 
than  helping  the  imitation.  Interesting  also,  with  some  sub- 
jects, is  the  lack  of  any  preference  for  any  particular  set  of 
these  voluntary  or  semi-voluntary  motor  devices.  But  next,, 
side  by  side  with  these  voluntary  processes,  or  instead  of 
them,  there  appear  unconsciously  selected  masses  of  varying 
organic  feelings,  which  seem  to  be  quite  involuntary  in  their 
special  origin  and  which  are  at  least  nearly  always  unex- 
pected. These,  when  they  come,  keep  some  sort  of  time 
with  the  rhythm,  and  may  help  to  apperceive  it.  They  are 
described  as  inner  beatings,  '  in  the  head,'  « in  the  neck,'  « in 
one  temple,'  « in  the  ball  of  my  thumb,'  as  tinglings,  throb- 
bings,  or  what  not.  These  vary  most  remarkably  from  ex- 
periment to  experiment,  appear  to  vary  quite  apart  from 
one's  expectation,  to  come  and  go  as  they  choose.  To  these 
are  joined  on  occasion  all  sorts  of  involuntary  associations 
of  a  more  or  less  symbolic  sort — 'ideas  of  urgency,'  or  of 
'  deliberation,'  or  of  merriment,  or  of  other  such  sorts  famil- 
iar to  all  who  note  musical  associations.  Visual  associations 
join  themselves — a  dark  rhythm  has  been  mentioned  in  one 
case.  The  visualization  of  the  intervals  as  space  intervals  is 
not  unknown.  All  these  phenomena  show  so  far  a  rather 
baffling  variety,  which  forbids  one  easily  to  reduce  them  to 
the  terms  of  habit.  The  whole  process,  at  least  in  all  its 


earlier  stages,  show  far  less  routine  than  I  had  expected. 
The  report  of  definable  4  waves  of  attention,'  as  such,  has 
been  rarer  than  I  should  have  anticipated.  Perhaps  further 
introspection  will  distinguish  these  facts  better.  But,  of 
course,  when  the  rhythm  is  once  well  learned,  all  the  fore- 
going processes  may  and  sometimes  do  lapse  into  a  mere 
sense,  that  «  I  know  all  this.'  Then,  however,  one  still  has 
a  model  general  idea  or  ideal  of  the  one  rhythm,  *  just  like  a 
sentence,'  as  the  subjects  are  wont  to  say — a  general  idea  of 
the  one  rhythm,  which  is  still  variable  as  to  its  tempo.  By 
as  elaborate  devices  for  variation  of  the  facts  as  I  can  devise, 
I  am  just  now  trying  to  run  down  what  this  general  ideal  of 
the  variable  unity  of  the  one  rhythm  really  is.  But  to 
speak  of  this  would  take  me  beyond  my  space.  Nor  have  I 
as  yet  any  report  to  make  as  to  the  time  facts  of  the  rhythm 

I  have  meant  to  state  a  problem,  viz.,  that  as  to  the  essen- 
tial nature  of  the  processes  called  imitative,  and  to  report 
the  mere  fact  of  a  research  now  under  way.  You  may  see 
how  one  of  these  reports  suggests  why  the  other  is  an  indi- 
cation of  matters  worthy  of  further  study.  Herewith  my 
present  purpose  and  your  time  are  alike  exhausted. 





The  experiments  of  this  study  were  performed  at  To- 
ronto by  Prof.  Baldwin  and  Mr.  W.  J.  Shaw,  during  the 
winter  of  1 892-3. 2  The  object  was  to  determine  the  accur- 
acy of  the  memory  for  size,  as  affected  by  the  lapse  of  time. 
A  figure  of  two  dimensions  was  selected  for  experiment 
because  of  the  tendency  to  measure  linear  size  in  terms  of 
well-known  units  of  length.  Circles  tend  to  be  measured  by 
their  radii,  but  in  the  case  of  the  square,  the  impression  is 
that  of  the  area,  and  the  natural  memory-image  is  not  so 
liable  to  be  corrected  by  comparison  with  standards  fixed  in 
mind  by  repeated  experience. 

The  experiments  proceeded  by  three  different  methods : 
(i)  Selection  from  a  Variety.  A  single  figure  (the  normal, 
150  mm  square)  was  drawn  on  a  black-board  and  shown  to  a 
large  college  class ;  after  a  certain  time  a  number  of  squares 
of  various  sizes  were  shown  simultaneously,  and  the  class 
was  requested  to  designate  the  one  that  appeared  to  be  the 
same  size  as  the  normal.  The  squares  ranged  from  130  to 
210  mm  by  intervals  of  20  mm,  and  the  time  intervals  were 
10,  20  and  40  minutes.  The  class  consisted  of  about  225 
persons,  of  whom  some  50  were  ladies.  (2)  Identification. 
Here  the  normal  square  was  first  shown,  and  afterwards  one 
other  square;  the  subjects  were  asked  to  say  whether  the 
latter  appeared  to  be  greater,  equal  to,  or  less  than  the 
normal.  The  time  intervals  were  the  same  as  before,  and 

1  These  studies  were  all  concluded  in  the  college  year  '93-' 94. 
*  Reported  in  these  words  to  the  Amer.  Psych.  Ass.,  Dec.,  1893,  by  H.  C.  Warren. 



the  second  square  was  in  every  instance  20  mm  greater  than 
the  normal. 

Both  series  were  treated  by  the  Method  of  Right  and 
Wrong  Cases,  and  the  two  results  showed  remarkable  agree- 
ment. The  percentage  of  right  cases  is  shown  in  Table  I. 


I.  By  Selection. 

II.  By  Identification. 

10  min. 



20       "           .       . 



40     "        .     . 



Plotting  the  results  (Fig.  i),  we  find  the  memory  curves,  as 
they  may  be  called,  practically  parallel,  but  the  degree  of 
accuracy  is  much  higher  by  the  second  method  than  by  the 
first.  In  each  there  is  a  rapid  falling  off  at  first,  then  a 
period  of  gradual  descent,  and  finally  another  rapid  drop. 




The  greater  accuracy  of  the  results  in  II  is  partly  due  to 
the  manner  of  stating  the  question.  Should  the  memory- 
image  of  the  normal  square  either  remain  unaltered,  or 
decrease  in  size,  the  subject  would  respond  correctly  that 
the  second  square  was  the  greater,  and  he  would  respond 
incorrectly  only  if  his  memory-image  had  increased  sensibly 
in  size  from  its  original.  Whereas,  in  the  series  by  Selection 
his  responses  would  be  classed  as  incorrect  if  his  memory- 


image  had  either  increased  or  decreased  sensibly.  A  further 
source  of  error  in  the  series  by  Selection  was  the  disturbance 
due  to  simultaneous  contrast  between  the  figures.  Some 
special  experiments  were  afterwards  made  to  determine  the 
effect  of  this  contrast  (see  Study  II,  below). 

In  discussing  the  form  of  the  two  memory-curves  so 
reached,  it  must  first  be  observed  that  their  real  origin 
is  not  at  A,  but  at  a  point,  or  points,  near  B.  For  the 
difference  of  20  mm  is  very  much  greater  than  the  least 
discernible  difference  between  two  squares  observed  in 
immediate  succession ;  hence,  even  if  a  considerable  interval 
should  elapse  before  the  second  square  is  shown,  no  incorrect 
judgment  will  be  given.  The  effect  of  this  is  to  make  the  first 
falling  off,  when  once  it  begins,  even  more  rapid  than  indi- 
cated on  the  diagram,  and  possibly  also  to  carry  out  the 
parallelism  between  the  two  curves  still  further.  The  reason 
for  the  sudden  falling  off  may  lie  in  the  conditions  of  the 
experiments.  The  subjects  began  to  take  notes  on  a  lecture 
immediately  after  the  normal  square  was  shown,  and  there 
was  consequently  a  sudden  withdrawal  of  attention  from  the 
memory-image,  allowing  it  to  fall  into  great  indistinctness  at 
once.  After  this  first  influence  had  taken  effect,  there  was, 
it  seems,  but  little  change  until  the  ordinary  factors  which 
tend  to  make  the  image  more  vague,  began  to  take  effect. 
The  work  of  these  factors,  which  one  would  scarcely  expect 
to  become  apparent  within  40  minutes,  may  have  been 
hastened  by  the  fatigue  arising  from  steady  application.1 

(3)  The  third  series  proceeded  by  what  was  termed  the 
Method  of  Reproduction.  A  normal  square  having  been 
shown,  as  before,  the  subjects  were  asked,  after  the  stated 
interval,  to  draw  a  square  of  the  same  size  on  paper.  The 
normal  in  this  case  was  170  mm  square.  The  reproductions 
were  almost  always  too  small,  their  average  being  146.0 
after  20  min.  and  146.4  after  40  min.  This  result  was  rather 
unexpected,  as  the  other  series  had  indicated  a  tendency  of 
the  memory-image  to  increase  in  size  beyond  the  original. 
It  may  be  attributed  to  two  factors:  (i)  The  muscles  of  the 

xThe  results  were  examined  for  a  possible  difference  between  the  two  sexes,  but 
4fee  variations,  wei*.  neither  marked:  nor  constant  ia  direction. 


hand  were  fatigued  from  continuous  writing,  and  this  tended 
to  give  the  impression  of  a  figure  larger  than  that  actually 
drawn.  (2)  The  paper  on  which  the  drawing  was  made  was 
not  much  larger  than  the  actual  size  of  the  normal;  any 
figure  coming  close  to  the  edges  would  appear  very  large, 
since  it  occupied  so  large  a  portion  of  the  field.  Hence 
there  was  a  tendency  to  draw  the  square  too  small.  On  this 
account  it  was  decided  to  separate  the  results  obtained  by 
this  method  from  the  others,  where  the  conditions  were 
more  nearly  alike. 


BY    H.    C.    WARREN   AND    W.    J.    SHAW. 

The  experiments  were  taken  up  at  this  point  by  Messrs. 
Warren  and  Shaw,  at  Princeton.  A  possible  objection  to 
the  Selection  Method  lay,  as  has  been  said,  in  the  disturbing 
influence  of  simultaneous  contrast.  To  investigate  this,  the 
following  experiment  was  performed :  Ten  squares,  ranging 
between  100  and  190  mm,  were  drawn  in  promiscuous  order 
on  a  large  sheet  of  paper;  on  another  sheet  of  the  same  size 
a  single  square  was  drawn  as  normal,  and  the  two  sheets 
were  placed  in  different  rooms.  The  subjects  observed  the 
normal  first,  and  going  at  once  to  the  other  room  designated 
the  square  which  appeared  equal  to  it.  The  normal  used 
was  1 20  mm  in  one  instance  and  170  mm  in  another.  In 
each  case  there  was  a  marked  attraction  towards  the  center  of 
the  series,  the  average  for  the  normal  of  120  mm  being  123.3, 
and  for  that  of  170  mm,  165. 

On  this  account  it  seemed  desirable  to  supplement  the 
Toronto  experiments  by  others,  and  to  employ  ,a  somewhat 
different  method,  using  a  series  which  combined  the  advan- 
tages of  Selection  and  Identification.  The  object  was  to 
determine  the  threshold,  i.  e.,  the  (average)  least  perceptible 
difference  from  the  normal  after  a  given  period  of  time.  In 
each  experiment  the  normal  was  first  shown,  and  after  the 
interval  another  square  as  near  the  threshold  as  the  latter 
could  be  determined  from  the  previous  experiments;  the 
experiments  were  continued  until  the  threshold  was  found. 


ff.  C.    WARREN  AND  W.  J.  SHA  W, 

When  the  squares  were  shown  in  immediate  succession 
(interval  of  no  minutes  =  perception),  the  threshold  was  found 
to  be  3  mm  for  squares  of  about  150  mm.  When  the  interval 
was  increased  it  was  found  to  make  an  essential  difference 
whether  the  second  square  was  the  larger  or  the  smaller. 
For  an  interval  of  10  minutes  the  threshold  was  8  mm  if  the 
second  was  smaller,  while  it  was  but  5  mm  if  the  second  was 
larger;  for  20  minutes  it  was  somewhat  less  than  8  mm  if  the 
second  was  smaller,  and  less  than  zero  (a  minus  quantity!)  if 
the  second  was  larger;  that  is,  when  two  squares  of  the 
same  size  were  shown,  20  minutes  apart,  the  second  was  pro- 
nounced the  smaller  by  over  50  per  cent,  of  the  subjects 
(actually,  63  per  cent.) 

That  this  result  was  not  accidental  (the  conditions  ren- 
dered any  collusion  impossible)  was  proved  by  the  substantial 
agreement  of  all  the  experiments,  pointing  as  they  did  with- 
out exception  in  the  same  direction.  The  entire  series 
(marked  a  in  Table  II)  was  performed  on  the  same  subjects, 
a  college  class  of  about  50,  Juniors  and  Seniors,  on  nine 
separate  occasions,  the  ro-minute  intervals  being  taken  first. 
Besides  this  the  table  shows  two  experiments  (marked  fr)  on 


Interval  and  order. 

Difference  between  I  (normal)  and  II. 

20  mm 

12  mm 


8  mm 

5  mm 

3  mm 

o  mm 




95  (c) 

87  (c) 

63  (c) 

4  mm  =  59 
2  mm  —-  44 


II<  or  >  I  






50  (a) 




10    .... 

87  (d) 


70  (a) 

53  (a) 




20  .... 



75  (b) 

94  (a) 

75  (a) 

65  (a) 




82  (d) 

82  (a) 

37  (b) 

67  (a) 



•j  24 



The  figures  denote  percentage  of  right  answers,  except  under  o  mm,  where  they 
denote  the  judgment  (=,  > ,  or  <,)  actually  made.     The  normal  was  150  mm  square- 


two  other  college  classes  of  50  and  65  respectively,  where 
squares  of  150  and  160  mm  were  used,  with  a  2O-minute 
interval,  the  normal  being  smaller  in  the  former  case  and 
larger  in  the  latter.  The  lack  of  practice  makes  the  thresh- 
old much  greater  in  these  instances  than  in  the  others,  but 
they  exhibit  the  same  difference,  depending  on  the  order  of 
sequence.  The  line  of  values  marked  c  shows  the  experi- 
ments on  squares  immediately  succeeding  one  another 
(o  minutes  interval),  taken  with  still  another  set  of  subjects, 
and  the  two  values  marked  d  are  taken  from  the  earlier 
experiments  by  Identification. 

These  results  unite  to  show  that  besides  the  growth  of 
inaccuracy,  or  indistinctness,  in  the  memory-image,  there  is 
another  factor  at  work,  by  which  the  memory-image  tends  to 
grow  larger  as  the  time  interval  increases.  The  table  gives 
three  cases  which  allow  direct  comparison  between  an  in- 
creasing and  a  decreasing  sequence:  (i)  With  unpracticed 
observers  (see  b\  10  mm  increase  from  the  normal  was  noted 
by  only  37*7*  after  20  minutes,  while  the  same  amount  of 
decrease  was  noted  by  75V<>-  (2)  With  practiced  observers 
(a)  ,8  mm  increase  was  noted  by  67%,  and  the  same  decrease  by 
49*A»'  (3)  With  the  same  observers  as  (2),  the  final  test,  after 
considerable  practice,  was  with  two  equal  squares,  separated 
by  20  minutes  interval;  63%  pronounced  the  second  square 
smaller,  24^  equal,  and  iyj0  larger.  Comparing  this  with 
the  observations  on  the  threshold  for  perception,  we  see  that 
while  half  of  the  subjects  can  distinguish  a  difference  in  the 
latter  case  only  when  it  amounts  to  3  mm,  in  case  of  a  20- 
minute  interval  a  majority  actually  think  they  perceive  a 
difference  when  none  exists,  indicating  plainly  that  their 
memory-image  has  grown  by  more  than  3  mm,  -apart  from 
any  increase  in  the  extent  of  the  territory  lying  l  below 
the  threshold.' 

These  results  are  not  so  satisfactory  as  the  earlier  series 
(see  Table  I)  for  determining  the  actual  law  of  the  threshold, 
on  account  of  the  increased  degree  of  practice  as  the  experi- 
ments proceeded.  But  they  bring  out  clearly  this  fact  of 
the  growth,  or  exaggeration,  of  the  memory-image.  The  fol- 
lowing explanation,  based  on  direct  deductions  from  Weber's 

242  H.   C.    WARREN  AND  W.   J.   SHA  W. 

Law,  is  suggested  to  account  for  this  exaggeration.  As 
given  here,  it  assumes  Weber's  Law  to  hold  rigidly  ;  but 
even  if  we  accept  the  latter  only  in  the  modified  form  that 
the  increments  of  sensation  grow  less  rapidly  than  the  increments 
of  stimulus,  it  will  be  seen  to  apply  as  a  constant  tendency, 
and  will  produce  the  result  indicated,  if  the  supposition  on 
which  it  is  based  be  admitted. 

A  B  9  E 

i-  -I-  -1-  n  —  i  —  i- 

IM    ID  jjj 

Let  AC  be  the  normal  stimulus,  and  AB,  AE  the  stimuli 

AC      AE 
just   perceptibly  different   from   it.       Then    -       =  -       =  r, 

a  constant  for  the  entire  series,  according  to  Weber's  Law; 
and  CE  >  BC.  Now  the  central  stimulation  of  the  memory- 
image  may  assume  any  magnitude  >AB  and  <AE,  and  any 
image  within  these  bounds  may  be  identified  with  the  mem- 
ory-image in  respect  to  size.  As  there  is  no  objective 
regulation  of  the  stimulus,  the  actual  representations  will  tend 
to  distribute  themselves,  according  to  the  theory  of  chances, 
evenly  between  B  and  E  ;  but  the  images  around  B  and  E, 
and  decreasingly  towards  C,  will  tend  to  be  rejected  as  too 
small  and  too  large,  respectively.  As  the  memory-image  be- 
comes indistinct,  however,  the  imagination-images  nearer  C 
are  less  frequently  rejected,  and  at  length  no  images  will  be 
rejected  between  two  given  points,  M  and  N.  Now  since  the 
actual  reproductions  are  distributed  evenly  between  M  and  N, 
and  none  are  rejected,  the  average  of  these  will  tend  to  assume 
the  function  of  memory-image;  that  is,  the  point  D,  midway 
between  M  and  N,  will  tend  to  become  the  basis  of  judg- 
ment, since  AD  is  the  average  of  the  unchallenged  images. 
But,  since  CN  is  always  greater  than  MC,  the  point  D  will 
always  lie  beyond  C;  i.  c.,  AD  >  AC.  Thus  there  will 
always  be  a  tendency  on  the  part  of  the  memory-image  to 
grow  larger,  as  soon  as  there  is  any  tendency  on  its'  part  to 
become  vague  or  indistinct;  and  the  continuation  of  this 
process  will  be  limited  only  by  the  limits  of  the  vagueness  of 
the  memory-image,  or  by  its  relations  to  other  objects  or 


memory-images  which  afford  a  means  of  comparison  and 
regulation.  In  the  instance  at  hand  there  are  no  such  means 
of  regulation  within  very  wide  limits,  and  the  exaggerating 
process  goes  on  without  hindrance,  so  that  in  the  end  the 
point  B  is  transferred  to  a  position  beyond  C, — a  result 
which,  while  unexpected  and  remarkable,  is  fully  accounted 
for  by  the  above  theory. 

The  close  of  the  college  year  prevented  an  extension  of 
these  experiments  to  intervals  of  40  minutes  with  the  same 
set  of  men. 

A  word  or  two  may  be  in  place  here  regarding  the  rela- 
tion between  single  experiments  on  a  number  of  subjects 
and  a  series  of  experiments  on  a  single  individual.  In  any 
experiments  where  a  number  of  results  are  combined  and 
their  averages  taken,  what  is  sought  is  a  representative  value. 
By  multiplying  the  trials,  accidental  influences  are  eliminated 
and  we  obtain  a  value  representative  of  the  given  individual 
under  the  given  conditions.  If  the  individual  represents 
some  peculiar  type,  we  should  further  compare  his  results 
with  those  obtained  from  individuals  of  other  types.  If, 
however,  what  we  desire  is  the  observation  of  an  average 
individual,  we  must  make  sure  that  our  subject  is  such,  by 
comparing  him  with  others.  Rather  than  repeat  the  entire 
series  on  several  individuals,  we  may  save  time  and  labor  by 
performing  a  single  experiment  on  a  number  together. 
There  are  then  a  number  of  precautions  to  be  taken, 
(i)  Each  subject  must  understand  perfectly  the  nature  of  the 
judgment  to  be  made.  (2)  The  judgments  must  be  entirely 
independent.  (3)  The  subjects  must  be  representative — not 
drawn  from  some  one  peculiar  class;  and  they  must  be 
governed  by  sensibly  the  same  conditions.  (4)  •  Finally, 
care  must  be  taken  with  the  objective  conditions  of  the  experi- 
ment, so  that  no  vitiating  circumstances  shall  creep  in. — In 
the  present  instance,  every  precaution  was  taken  to  fulfil 
the  first  two  and  the  last  of  these  requirements,  and,  a  num- 
ber of  doubtful  results  having  been  rejected,  the  remainder 
fulfilled  the  conditions  exactly,  as  far  as  a  most  careful 
scrutiny  and  attention  on  the  part  of  the  two  observers  could 
determine.  Further,  the  subjects  were  acted  upon  by  sen- 


sibly  the  same  conditions  during  the  given  interval.  There 
is,  of  course,  room  for  variety  of  opinion  as  to  how  far  rep- 
resentative a  college  class  is  to  be  considered,  and  what 
allowances,  if  any,  should  be  made  for  differences  in  previous 
occupation  and  differences  in  location  with  reference  to  the 
platform  where  the  squares  were  shown.  The  writers  are 
inclined  to  minimize  these  differences,  and  as  to  the  former 
question,  it  is  urged  that  a  body  of  men  like  those  under 
consideration  are  perfectly  representative  of  the  average 
educated  male  of  about  21.  We  believe  the  results  to  be  far 
more  satisfactory  than  a  quantity  of  experiments  on  merely 
one  or  two  individuals,  and  think  that  this  cumulative  method, 
under  which  alone  are  possible  certain  experiments  involving 
a  great  amount  of  time,  may  safely  be  used  in  connection 
with  the  more  usual  procedure. 



I.  Problem,  Apparatus,  and  Methods. — The  indication 
given  in  a  preceding  Study  (I)  that  the  arrangement  of 
squares  of  various  sizes  in  the  visual  field  has  an  influence 
upon  the  identification  of  one  of  them  as  of  a  certain  remem- 
bered size,  suggested  a  farther  research.  It  occurred  to 
the  writer  that  any  influence  of  contiguous  squares  upon 
each  other  would  be  accurately  measured  by  their  joint 
influence  upon  the  subject's  estimate  of  some  other  distance 
on  the  retina.  And  such  a  distance  as  that  lying  between 
the  squares  lends  itself  directly  to  this  purpose. 

An  arrangement  was  readily  effected,  whereby  the  rati< 
of  the  sides  of  two  squares  to  each  other  was  varied  in 
series  of  values,  while  the  distance  between  the  squares  w; 
kept  constant.  Any  regular  variations  then  in  the  judgment 
of  this  latter  distance,  such  as  that  of  its  mid-point, — /.  e., 
the  bisection  of  the  distance  between  the  squares, — would 
due  to  the  variations  in  the  ratio  of  the  square-sizes.  Sucl 
a  problem  shows  practical  bearings  also  in  all  matters  whicl 



require  estimates  of  balance,  division,  proportion  in  right 
lines  between  masses,  objects,  etc.,  in  the  field  of  vision: 
such  matters  as  the  hanging  of  pictures,  all  designing  of 
cuts,  vignettes,  architectural  plans,  etc.,  which  involve  line 
values.  Of  course  all  variations  from  the  correct  location  of 
a  mid-point,  or  other  critical  point,  lying  between  two 
masses  of  material,  color,  etc.,  should  be  allowed  for  in 
applying  the  formulae  of  aesthetic  effect. 

A  further  complication  also  arises  when  movement  enters 
into  the  case :  the  movement  of  the  contrasted  masses 
toward  or  from  each  other,  of  the  eye  from  one  to  the  other 
along  the  line  of  connection,  or  of  the  element  of  this  line 
whose  evolution  describes  the  line. 

Experimental  Arrangements. — The  following  description 
(with  Fig.  i)  of  my  device  for  investigating  the  problem  is 
given  in  some  detail,  since  it  meets  the  essential  requirements 
of  such  experimentation  and  is  so  simple  in  principle  that 
it  may  be  adopted  by  others  who  desire  to  carry  this  kind 
of  experimentation  further. 

.  I. 

The  dark  room  (R)  communicates  with  room  I  (R/)  by  a 
single  window  (W)  which  is  completely  filled  with  white 

246  J.  MARK  BALDWIN. 

cardboard.  In  this  cardboard  two  square  holes  are  cut 
(S  and  S1)  whose  sides  are  of  determined  ratio  to  each  other, 
and  whose  distance  from  each  other  is  measured  by  a  slit(D) 
bearing  a  known  ratio  in  length  to  the  side  of  the  larger 
square.  On  the  wall  beside  the  window  (at  Ax)  is  fixed  the 
axis  of  movement  of  a  long  needle  which  is  moved  upon  this 
axis  by  a  pin  carried  round  the  face  of  the  clock  motor  (Cm) 
of  a  Rothe  polygraph.  The  movement  of  one  end  of  the 
needle  upward  by  the  pin  and  downward  by  its  own  weight, 
is  reversed  by  the  other  end  of  the  needle,  which  so  carries 
an  arrow-head  or  pointed  marker  up  and  down  the  mm  scale 
marked  upon  the  slit  D.  The  needle  bears  at  A  the  arma- 
ture of  an  electromagnet.  The  magnet  (E)  under  the  arma- 
ture is  fixed  to  the  cardboard  and  its  connections  are  carried 
into  room  R/  and  terminate  in  a  punch-key  (K)  on  a  table 
directly  in  front  of  the  window  W.  The  reagent  sits  at  this 
key,  closes  the  current  when  the  needle  reaches  the  mid- 
point of  the  slit  D,  the  needle  is  arrested  by  the  attraction  of 
the  magnet  (E),  and  the  reading  is  given  on  the  scale  mm. 
The  apparatus  works  automatically,  giving  a  series  of  experi- 
ments, with  alternating  up  and  down  movement  of  the  needle, 
until  the  motor  runs  down.  A  gas  jet  in  room  R  is  focussed 
through  a  large  reading  lens  upon  the  scale  mm,  converting 
the  small  point  of  the  needle  seen  by  the  reagent  from  the 
other  room,  into  a  moving  bead  of  light.  The  back-ground 
of  the  squares  and  of  the  slit  is  the  black  of  the  dark-room 
wall,  and  the  whole  is  seen  by  him  upon  the  white  surface  of 
the  cardboard. 

For  the  horizontal  arrangement  of  the  squares,  the  whole 
apparatus  is  simply  shifted  90°,  bringing  the  axis  of  move- 
ment of  the  needle  below  the  window. 

With  the  arrangements  thus  described  experiments  were 
carried  out  on  two  persons;  Sh.,  (W.  J.  Shaw)  and  T.  (G.  A. 
Tawney),  with  results  as  given  in  this  report.1  Both  were 
practiced  in  psychological  experimentation,  but  Sh.  more 
than  T. 

1  My  thanks  are  due  to  these  gentlemen,  as  also  to  two  others  who  gave  me  some 
test  series.  For  special  reasons  the  conditions  of  reaction  of  the  latter  were  not  typical 
and  so  they  were  not  continued. 


In  the  case  of  each,  the  series  of  values  of  the  ratio  ^s 

was  -J-,  J,  -J,  -jJg-,  which  gives,  when  S  has  the  constant  value 
of  20  cm,  the  following  series  of  values  for  S1,  i.  e.,  10,  5, 
2.50,  1.25  cm.  A  constant  value  for  the  distance  between 
the  squares  was  selected  which  seemed  about  as  likely  to 
occur  in  ordinary  arrangements  and  experiments  as  any 
other,  /".*.,  J  S  =  10  cm. 

The  experiments  were  performed  in  series  of  20  to  25, 
called  each  a  'lot,'  only  one  lot  being  taken  at  a  sitting  to 
avoid  fatigue  of  the  eyes.  The  time  of  day  was  kept  con- 
stant, the  subject  was  kept  in  entire  ignorance  of  the  object 
of  the  research  and  of  the  results  he  gave,  and  was  asked 
after  each  series  to  give  any  impressions  he  might  have  of  the 
accuracy  of  his  results,  and  of  the  variations  which  he  made, 
if  any,  in  his  method  of  identifying  the  mid-point.  Careful 
record  was  kept  of  all  these  impressions,  and  they  turned  out 
to  be  valuable. 

Methods  of  Identifying  the  Mid-point. — The  two  reagents 
began  at  the  very  beginning  of  the  experiments  to  describe 
their  procedure  differently — a  difference  which  was  persisted 
in  and  became  in  the  sequel  a  matter  of  fundamental  import- 
ance. Sh.  tended  to  fix  his  gaze  upon  the  moving  bead  of 
light ;  followed  it  in  its  course,  and  stopped  it  when  it  reached 
the  mid-point.  This,  it  is  evident,  involves  an  element  of  eye- 
movement  through  a  series  of  positions  corresponding  in  ex- 
tent directly  to  half  the  time  D.  This  I  shall  call  the 
'approach  method,'  since  the  mid-point  is  selected  only  as 
it  is  approached  by  the  light-bead. 

T.,  on  the  other  hand,  tended  to  select  the  mid-point  first; 
and  endeavored  to  hold  it  fixed  until  the  light-bead  reached 
it,  then  fixing  the  bead  by  his  reaction.  This  evidently 
gives  a  result  largely  independent  of  eye-movements  on  the 
line  D,  and  this  may  accordingly  be  called  the  *  fixation' 
method.  It  will  be  seen  below  that  very  important  conse- 
quences follow  from  this  difference  of  method. 

/.  Approach  Method.  Vertical  Arrangement.  Results  of  Sh. 
—The  results  of  770  experiments  with  the  vertical  arrange- 
ment upon  Sh.,  who  used  the  'approach'  method,  divided 



into  5  series  of  6  lots  each,  are  shown  in  Table  I.  In  the 
'vertical  arrangement'  the  larger  square  was  above  the 
smaller  in  all  cases.  The  variable  error  is  not  given  in  any 
of  the  tables,  since  it  fell  below  the  limit  of  accuracy  of  the 
apparatus,  i.  e.,  the  diameter  of  the  light-bead.  The  uni- 
formity in  direction  of  the  constant  error  is  shown  in  the 
small  number  of  exceptions  or  minus  judgments  given  in  the 
column  Excpts.  in  the  table.  The  words  '  down,'  « up,' 
« both,'  signify  the  direction  of  movement  of  the  needle. 

TABLE  I. — Sh.     App.  Method.     Ver.  Arrgt. 

Mean  Var.  in  mm. 


Ratio  of  Sides 




in  cm. 


Both  Directions. 





20:  10 












20:  2.50 






20:  1.25 






20:  o 





The  consideration  of  the  figures  given  in  this  table 
enables  us  to  formulate  the  following  statements  for  the  case 
in  which  the  eye  follows  the  stimulating  bead  to  its  point  of 
arrest,  up  and  down  a  vertical  line : 

1.  There  is  a  tendency  to  fix  the  mid-point  too  far  away 
from  the  larger  square  (positive  values  of  mean  var.) 

2.  The  direction  of  the  tendency  to  error  has  practically 
no  exceptions. 

3.  This  tendency  varies  in  some  direct  ratio  with  the 
ratio  of  the  sides  of  the  two  squares  to  each  other;   i.  e.,  from 
.01215  of  the  side  of  the  larger  square  when  its  ratio  to  the 
side  of  the  smaller  is  2:1,  to  .02  of  the  side  of  the  larger 
when  its  ratio  to  the  smaller  is  16:  i. 



4.  At  the  limiting  value  (o)  of  the  side  of  the  smaller 
•square,  the  tendency  to  locate  the  mid-point  too  far  away 
from  the  larger  square  is  about  the  same  as  when  the  sides 
of  the  two  squares  are  in  the  ratio  2:1. 

5.  The   tendency   to   error  is  from    16  to  25   per  cent. 
stronger    when    the    stimulating   object   whose    location   is 
fixated  is  in  movement  in  the  same  direction  as  the  tendency 
of  error  (down),  than  when  it  is  in  movement  in  the  opposite 
•direction  (up). 

//.  Results  of  Sh.  Horizontal  A  rrangement. — Passing  now  to 
the  horizontal  arrangement,  in  which  the  details  of  apparatus 
remained  the  same  as  for  the  vertical,  I  may  report  as  before 
for  the  two  methods.  The  larger  square  was  placed  to  the  left, 
the  smaller  to  the  right,  and  the  bead  of  light  moved  right 
and  left  over  the  slit  between.  The  variations  in  the  side 
of  the  smaller  square  gave  as  before  the  series  of  ratios  to 
the  side  of  the  larger,  ^-,  -J,  ^,  ^.  The  following  table  shows 
the  results: 

TABLE  II. — Sh.     App.  Method.     Hor.  Arrgt. 

Mean  Var.  in  mm. 


Ratio  of  Sides 





in  cm. 


Both  Directions. 











20:  2.5 






20:  1.25 











From  the  examination  of  Table  II  we  gather  the  follow- 
ing results : 

1.  There  is  a  practically  uniform  tendency  of  error  away 
from  the  larger  square. 

2.  This  tendency  varies  in  some  direct  ratio  with  the 
ratio  of  the  sides  of  the  two  squares  to  each  other. 



3.  The  magnitude  of  the  error  is  from  .9  to  2.2  mm,   i.  e.r 
.005  to  .01  of  the  side  of  the  larger  square. 

4.  At  the  limiting  value  (o)  of  the  side  of  the  small  square- 
the  tendency  is  slightly  less  than  when  the  ratio  of  the  two- 
sides  is  16  :  i. 

5.  This  tendency  is  about  -J-  greater  when  the  movement 
of  the  stimulus  fixated  is  in  the  direction  of  the  error  itself 
(right)  than  when  it  is  in  the  opposite  direction  (left). 

///.  Fixation  Method.  Vertical  A  rrangement.  Results  of  T.. 
— The  results  of  683  experiments  with  the  vertical  arrange- 
ment upon  T.,  who  used  the  fixation  method,  divided  into* 
five  series  of  six  lots  each,  are  as  follows.  See  Table  III. 

TABLE  III. — T.     Fix.  Method.     Ver.  Arrgt. 

Mean  Var.  in  mm. 


Ratio  of  Sides 



in  cm. 


Both  Directions. 





20:  10. 






20:  5. 












20:  1.25 











Examination  of  this  table  enables  us  to  make  again  the 
following  statements  for  this  subject  with  the  method  and 
arrangement  described : 

1.  There  is  a  tendency  to  error  in  the   direction  away 
from  the  larger  square. 

2.  This  tendency  has  so  few  exceptions  that  they  are  due 
probably  to  accidental  causes. 

3.  The  amount  of  this  tendency  is  given  in  a  number 
which  fluctuates  slightly  about  a  value  equal  to  .015  of  the 
side  of  the  larger  square. 



4.  At  the  limiting  value  (o)  of  the  side  of    the  smaller 
square  there  is  the  same  tendency  to  error,  but  it  is  less  than 
\  the  error  when  the  ratio  is  1:2. 

5.  The  tendency  to  error  is  about  50  per  cent,  greater 
when  the  stimulus  for  fixation  is   moving   in  the   direction 
contrary  to  that  of  the  variation  itself  than  when  it  is  mov- 
ing in  the  same  direction. 

IV.  Results  of  T.  Horizontal  Arrangement. — The  experi- 
ments on  T.  with  the  horizontal  arrangement,  his  method 
remaining  as  before  that  which  I  have  called  the  « fixation 
method,'  gave  the  results  shown  in  Table  IV. 

TABLE  IV.— T.     Fix.  Method.     Hor.  Arrgt. 

Mean  Var.  in  mm. 


Ratio  of  Sides 
in  cm. 





Both  Directions. 










20:  2.  5 






20:  1.25 











From  the  examination  of  this  table  we  may  make  the  fol- 
lowing statement  of  results  for  T. : 

1.  There  is  a  uniform  tendency  to  error  in  the  direction 
away  from  the  larger  square. 

2.  This  tendency  is  from   1.64  to  3.25  mm,  i.  e.,  in  this 
case  .008  to  .016  the  side  of  the  larger  square. 

3.  This  tendency  varies  in  some  direct ,  ratio  with  the 
ratio  of  the  sides  of  the  two  squares  to  each  other. 

4.  At  the  limiting  value  (o)  of  the  side  of  the  smaller 
square  the  tendency  to  error  is  the  same  as  when  the  ratio 
between  the  sides  of  the  two  squares  is  £. 

5.  The  tendency  is  about  J  greater  when  the  stimulus 
fixated  is  moving  in  the  direction  of  the  tendency  to  error 
(right)  than  when  it  is  moving  in  the  opposite  direction  (up). 


V.  Rectification  Method.  —  It  is  evident  that  a  second 
series  of  indications  may  be  obtained  from  the  experiments 
given  above  in  cases  in  which  the  reagent  expresses  his 
sense  of  the  correctness  or  incorrectness  of  his  result  in  each 
experiment.  Both  Sh.  and  T.  were  instructed  to  indicate 
after  each  experiment  whether  or  not  the  bead  gave  a  satis- 
factory result  when  stopped,  and  also  in  which  direction  the 
result  should  be  rectified  to  give  satisfaction.  Records  were 
kept  of  all  such  indications.  Since  it  involved  a  secondary 
fixing  of  the  mid-point,  it  approaches  the  '  fixation '  method ; 
but  since  it  followed  upon  the  earlier  determination  made 
when  the  needle  was  in  motion,  it  involves  influences  akin  to 
those  of  the  'approach'  method;  so  it  may  be  considered  a 
combination  of  the  earlier  methods  and  a  refinement  upon 
both  of  them,  for  it  requires  a  second  act  of  judgment  or 
•criticism  of  the  result  already  rendered  in  each  trial.  So  let 
«s  call  it  the  *  rectification '  method. 

It  is  further  apparent  that  this  rectification  of  the  result 
•of  any  given  experiment  may  take  one  of  four  phases.  It 
may  be  a  judgment  that  the  needle  has  gone  too  far,  this 
we  may  call  rectification  by  'reversal;'  or  that  it  has  not 
gone  far  enough,  rectification  by  'supplementing.'  And 
each  of  these  kinds  of  rectification  will  include  again  two 
instances.  There  will  be  reversals  when  the  movement  is  in 
the  direction  of  the  prevailing  error  (i.  e.,  away  from  the 
larger  square),  and  when  the  movement  is  contary  to  the 
direction  of  the  prevailing  error  (i.  e.,  toward  the  greater 
square.)  And  the  same  two  cases  occur  for  the  '  supple- 
mental' rectifications. 

The  cases  of  rectification  in  the  experiments  on  Sh.  and  T., 
both  of  whom  were  instructed  to  use  the  method,  may  be 
thrown  into  the  following  tables,  in  which  the  four  kinds  of 
rectification  are  distinguished. 

Results  for  Sh.  Rectification  of  Results  Secured  by  Ap- 
proach Method.  Vertical  Arrangement. — Giving  the  figures 
for  Sh.  in  the  vertical  arrangement  we  have  Table  V. 


TABLE  V.— Sh.     App.  Method.     Ver.  Arrgt. 




Ratio  of  Sides 




in  cm. 















3     ' 


















20:  2.5 








{20:1.25  ) 
(  20:0       J 







Totals  .    . 








From  this  table  we  may  conclude  as  follows : 

1.  Of  the  rectification  of  results  secured  by  the  approach 
method,  the  'reversals'  are  nearly  twice  as  frequent  as  the 

2.  The  'reversals'  are  5  times  as  frequent  when  the  bead 
moves  against  the  tendency  to  error  as  when  it  moves  in  the 
same  direction. 

3.  The  '  supplementals  '  are  2\  times  as  frequent  when  the 
bead  moves  in  the  direction  of  the  error  as  when  it  moves  in 
the  contrary  direction. 

4.  Rectifications  take  place  in  ^  the   entire  number  of 

Horizontal  Arrangement. — The  rectifications  of  Sh.  for  the 
horizontal  arrangement  are  shown  in  Table  VI  (first  line). 
TABLE  VI. — Hor.  Arrgt. 

Reversals.  • 




Ratio  of  Sides 
in  cm. 




































Whole  series 



















It  results  from  this  table : 

1.  The  'reversals'  number  5   times  the   '  supplementals' 
among  the  rectifications  of  data  derived  by   the  approach 

2.  The  'reversals'  are  3   times  as  many  when  the  bead 
moves  in  the  direction  contrary  to  the  prevailing  error  (i.  e.y 
toward  the  larger  square),  as  when  it  moves  in  the  opposite 

3.  The  supplementals   are   equally  divided   between  the 
two  cases  of  opposite  movement  of  the  bead. 

4.  The  number  of  rectifications  is  about  -J  of  the  number 
of  experiments. 

Results  for  T.  Rectifications  of  Results  Secured  by  the  Fix- 
ation Method.  Vertical  Arrangement. — The  results  of  T.  with 
the  vertical  arrangements  appear  in  Table  VII. 

TABLE  VII. — T.     Fix.  Method.     Ver.  Arrgt. 


Ratio  of  Sides 
in  cm. 






















20:  10 














20:  2.  5 








j  20:1.25  ) 

\  20.0          J 







Total  .    .    . 








Table  VII  shows  the  following: 

1.  Rectifications  by  'supplementing'  are  ^  more  frequent 
than  those  by  'reversal'  when  the  results  are  secured  by  the 
fixation  method. 

2.  The  'reversals'  are  -J-  more  frequent  when  the  bead 
moves  in  the  direction  of  error  than  when  it  moves  in  the 
contrary  direction. 



3.   The  'supplementals'  are  \  more  frequent  when  the 

bead  moves  in  the  direction  contrary  to  that  of  the  prevailing 

error  than  when  it  moves  in  the  same  direction  as  the  error. 

4.   The  entire  number  of  rectifications  is  £  of  the  entire 

number  of  experiments. 

Horizontal  Arrangement. — The  rectifications  of  T.  for  the 
horizontal  arrangement  are  given  in  Table  VII  (second  line). 

1.  Results. — The  'reversals'  are  three  times  the  'supple- 
mentals'  in  the  fixation  method,  horizontal  arrangement. 

2.  The  reversals  are  \  more  when  the  bead  moves  in  the 
direction    of    error    than    when    it    moves    in    the    opposite 

3.  The   'supplementals'  are   five  times   more  when   the 
bead  moves  contrary  to  the  direction  of  error  than  when  it 
moves  in  the  same  direction.     This  result,  however,  is  based 
on  too  small  a  number  of  cases  to  be  taken  as  a  numerical 

4.  The  number  of  rectifications  is  \  of  the  whole  number 
of  experiments. 

VI.  General  Interpretation  of  Results. — We  are  now  able  to 
gather  up  the  results  shown  in  the  earlier  tables  in  some 
more  comprehensive  statements,  based  upon  the  whole  num- 
ber of  experiments  taken  together. 

I.   Considering  the  results  for  the  direction  and  amount 

"Fig.  2 

of  error  without  regarding  the  influence  of  the  direction  of 
movement  of  the  light-bead,  we  may  plot  curves  showing 

256  J.  MARK  BA  LD  WIN. 

the  tendency  and  amount  of  error  for  each  of  the  two  arrange- 
ments by  each  of  the  two  methods.  In  Fig.  2  the  horizon- 
tal ordinate  represents  the  constant  series  of  ratios  of  the 
square-sides  to  each  other;  the  vertical  ordinate,  the  size  of 
the  error  and  its  duration  (above  the  abscissa  denoting  error 
away, from  the  larger  square).  Curves  (i)  and  (2)  give  the  re- 
sults by  the  approach  method,  vertical  and  horizontal 
arrangements  respectively ;  curves  (3)  and  (4)  the  results  by 
the  fixation  method,  vertical  and  horizontal  respectively. 
The  location  of  the  various  points  of  the  curves  is  determined 
in  each  instance  by  the  figures  given  in  the  appropriate 
table  above.  The  curves  are  numbered  to  correspond  with 
the  respective  tables. 

Inspection  of  the  four  curves  gives  certain  general  results 
which  unite  and  summarize  the  results  already  shown  from 
the  separate  tables  above. 

1.  The  four  curves  (representing  1,928  experiments)  agree 
in   establishing  a  tendency  to   error  away  from   the   larger 
square  of  from  i  to  4.5  mm  when  the  side  of  the  larger  square 
is  20  cm. 

2.  The  close  parallelism  of  three  of  the  curves  in  their 
common  direction,  and  the   general    parallelism  of   all  the 
four,  establishes  the  fact  that  the  tendency  to  error  increases 
with  the  relative  increase  of  the  side  of  the  larger  square. 

3.  The  position  of  curves  (i)  and  (3),  considered  in  relation 
to  the  position  of  curves  (2)  and  (4),  shows  that  the  tendency 
to  error,  when  the  squares  are  arranged  vertically,  is  about 
twice  as  great  as  when  they  are  arranged  horizontally. 

4.  Comparison  of  curves  (i)  and  (2)  with  curves  (3)  and 
(4)  shows  that  the  method  of  fixation  gives  more  uniform 
results  than  the  method  of  approach ;   and  also  that  the  dif- 
ference in  result  between  the  vertical  and  horizontal  arrange- 
ments is  less  when  the  fixation  method  is  used.     It  follows 
from  this  that  eye-movements  over  a  line  hinder  the  correct 
estimate  of  the  parts  of  that  line,  and  that  this  influence  of 
eye-movement   is  greater   for   vertical   than  for  horizontal 

II.  Considering  the  results  with  regard  to  the  direction 
of  movement  of  the  light-bead  by  both  methods  and  in  both 



arrangements,  we  may  plot  the  curves  of  Fig.  3,  in  which 
the  ordinates  remain  as  in  Fig.  2,  the  points  on  curves  (i) 
and  (2)  give  the  amount  of  error  for  the  several  contrast 
ratios  for  the  case  of  movements  of  the  bead  away  from  and 
toward  the  larger  square  respectively  by  the  approach 
method,  and  the  points  on  curves  (3)  and  (4)  give  the  amount 
of  error  for  the  same  two  cases  respectively,  by  the  fixation 
method.  These  amounts  are  reached  by  combining  the 
figures  for  'down'  and  'right'  movements  in  the  tables  of 
vertical  and  horizontal  arrangement  of  the  approach  method, 
for  each  contrast  ratio,  and  combining  similarly  the  'up*  and 
'left'  results  of  the  corresponding  tables  of  the  fixation 


Inspection  of  these  four  curves  (again  representing  the 
entire  1,928  experiments)  leads  us  to  certain  conclusions. 

1.  Comparison  of  curves  (i)  and  (3)  with  curves  (2)  and 
(4)  shows  that  the  error  is  greater  when  the  bead  is  moving 
in  the  direction  of  the  error. 

2.  This  is  especially  the  case  when  the  approach  method 
is  adopted,  the  error  then  being  twice  as  great  when  the 
movement  is  in  the  direction  of  the  normal  error  as  when  it 
is  in  the  contrary  direction  [comparison  of  curves  (i)  and  (2)]. 

3.  It  follows  that  the  influence  already  found  to  be  due  to 
eye-movements  varies  according  to  the  particular  direction  of 
the  movement  along  the  line  explored.     If  the  eye-movement 
is  toward  the  larger  of  the  areas  contrasted,  it  tends  to  cor- 

258  y,  MARK  BALDWIN. 

rect  the  normal  error  of  judgment  in  the  estimation  of  the 
time  which  connects  the  two  areas.  If  the  movement  is,  on 
the  contrary,  away  from  the  greater  area  it  exaggerates  the 
normal  error  of  judgment. 

III.  The  details  of  the  instances  of  'rectification'  given 
above  serve  to  confirm  these  general  conclusions,  both  as  to  the 
normal  error  itself  and  as  to  the  influence  of  eye-movements 
upon  it.  By  the  approach  method  the  rectifications  by  re- 
versal are  two  to  five  times  more  frequent  than  those  by  sup- 
plementing1. This  shows  that  the  rectifications  in  this  instance 
are  really  corrections  of  the  influences  now  found  to  be  due 
to  eye-movements.  Further,  reversals  are  three  to  four 
times  as  frequent  when  the  bead  moves  against  the  tendency 
to  error  as  when  it  moves  in  the  direction  of  this  tendency. 
This  shows  that  these  corrections  are  much  more  likely  in 
direction  opposite  to  that  in  which  we  now  find  the  real  con- 
trast error  to  occur.  When  moving  in  the  direction  of  the 
contrast  error  the  eye-movement  influence  gets  support  from 
that  error,  and  so  fails  of  detection,  and  even  secures  sup- 
plementing in  this  direction  more  frequently  than  the  move- 
ment in  the  opposite  direction  does.  This  is  an  indirect 
determination  of  the  true  direction  of  the  contrast  error  in 
agreement  with  the  direct  experimental  result. 

The  rectifications  in  the  fixation  method,  on  the  other 
hand,  are  equally  divided  between  the  « reversals '  and  the 
'supplemental,'  showing  that  the  influence  of  eye-movement 
is  largely  eliminated  by  this  method.  And  further,  the  dis- 
tribution of  both  supplemental  and  reversals  between  the 
two  cases  of  movement,  in  one  direction  or  the  other,  is  now 
directly  reversed,  i.  e.,  the  reversals  are  more  frequent  when 
the  bead  moves  in  the  direction  of  error,  and  the  supplemen- 
tals  when  it  moves  contrary  to  this  direction,  a  result  which 
seems  to  show  that  in  this  case  the  tendency  to  error  from 
contrast  is  in  conflict  with  the  normal  influence  of  eye- 
movements,  and  the  correction  is  made  to  increase  the  latter 
in  one  direction,  and  to  diminish  the  former  (or  their  sum) 
in  the  other  direction. 

The  entire  number  of  rectifications  of  all  kinds  (about  fa 
of  the  whole  number  of  experiments)  may  be  taken  as  a  sort 

S  T  UDIE  S  FROM  THE  PRINCE  TON  LA  B  OR  A  TOR  Y.    2$$ 

of  quantitative  indication  of  the  function  of  second-judgment, 
or  deliberation,  upon  sensory  determinations  of  such  a  com- 
plex character  as  those  involved  in  these  experiments.  It  is 
interesting  to  note  that  this  second  judgment,  however,  does 
not  tend  in  the  general  result  to  correct  the  error  of  first 
judgment;  for  there  are  about  J  more  cases  of  rectifications 
by  displacement  toward  S1  (the  direction  of  the  error)  than 
toward  S.  The  only  case  in  which  the  correction  does  work 
to  give  greater  accuracy  to  the  result  is  that  of  the  use  of 
the  fixation  method,  where  both  the  original  and  second 
judgments  are  comparatively  free  from  eye-movements  and 
their  after  effects. 

Finally,  the  great  uniformity  of  the  error  of  judgment  is 
seen  in  the  small  number  of  cases  (69  in  the  entire  series  of 
1,928  experiments)  in  which  the  mid-point  was  located  in  the 
direction  opposite  to  the  prevailing  error  (that  is,  located  too 
far  toward  the  large  square).  And  even  this  number  repre- 
sents too  high  a  figure,  since  the  sum  of  the  variations  of 
this  kind  in  all  but  two  series  gave  only  28  cases  (i.  e.,  in 
1,679  experiments);  the  two  giving  the  very  abnormally 
large  figures  20  in  100  experiments  (app.  method,  horiz.  ar- 
rangement) and  21  in  149  experiments  (fix.  method,  vert. 
arrangement)  being  evidently  affected  by  some  temporary 

A  series  of  experiments  has  already  been  begun  with  a 
stationary  stimulus  (thus  ruling  out  the  influence  of  eye- 
movements);  and  I  hope  also  to  complicate  the  case  with 
variations  planned  to  introduce  aesthetic  elements  into  the 

BY  j.   MARK  BALDWIN  (with  the  assistance  of  W.  J.  Shaw.) 

The  experiments  reported  in  this  article  were  carried 
out  in  the  Toronto  Laboratory  in  1892—93.  Three  ques- 
tions were  set  for  research,  all  of  them  bearing  on  the  ques- 
tion of  the  degree  of  relativity  of  reaction  times :  either  the 
difference  of  a  single  individual's  times,  according  as  there 



were  subjective  (attention)  or  objective  (qualitative  stimulus) 
changes  in  the  conditions  of  his  reaction ;  or  the  differences 
of  reaction  times  for  different  individuals  under  identical 
conditions.  To  secure  results  comparable  in  the  respects  in 
which  comparisons  were  desired,  certain  precautions  were 
made,  as  follows:  (i)  each  reagent  reacted  at  the  same  hour 
from  day  to  day,  and  at  the  same  hour  with  each  other  re- 
agent whose  reaction  was  to  be  compared  with  his;  (2)  the 
order  of  change  in  the  conditions  of  reaction  (as  sensory- 
motor,  light-dark,  visual-kinsesthetic,  etc.)  was  kept  in  the 
main  the  same  for  the  different  reagents. 

The  Hipp  and  D'Arsonval  chronoscopes  were  used,  both 
controlled  by  the  records  of  a  Konig  tuning-fork  recording 
on  the  drum  of  the  Marey  motor.  The  « light '  reactions 
were  taken  in  a  room  of  good  south  morning  exposure,  and 
those  in  the  dark,  in  a  dark  closet  of  the  same  room.  The 
stimulus  was  in  all  cases  an  auditory  one — a  sharp  metallic 
click — and  the  reacting  movement  was  a  pressure  downward 
of  the  right  forefinger  (in  the  case  of  the  D'Arsonval  instru- 
ment, a  pinch  of  that  finger  and  the  thumb).  The  reagents 
were,  besides  the  writers  (B.  and  S.),  Mr.  Faircloth  (F.), 
a  student  who  had  had  only  the  experience  gained  from  the 
practical  work  in  this  subject  of  the  course  in  Experimental 
Psychology.  His  reactions  were  ready  and  unconfused,  and 
from  all  appearances  he  was  a  normal  and  more  than  usually 
suitable  man  for  such  work.  The  fourth,  Mr.  Crawford 
(C.),  is  an  honor  student  in  this  subject  in  Princeton.  His 
reactions  were  taken  in  the  course  of  another  investigation, 
and  being  so  few  in  number,  they  are  included  only  because 
they  give  a  certain  case  of  a  capable  reagent  whose  sensory 
is  shorter  than  his  motor  reaction.  We  hope  to  test  him 

I.  Variations  in  the  Results. — Table  I.  shows  the  relative 
reliability  of  the  two  instruments  in  these  experiments. 


TABLE  I. — Clock-corrections. 


Const.   Error. 

Var.  Error. 







All  the  results  secured  by  each  instrument  are  corrected, 
by  the  constant  error  of  that  instrument,  before  being  used 
either  for  comparison  among  themselves  or  for  compound- 
ing with  the  results  of  the  other  instrument,  in  the  tables 
which  follow.  The  smaller  variable  error  of  the  Hipp  chro- 
noscope  makes  the  results  of  that  instrument  much  more 
reliable  in  the  matter  of  absolute  time-measurement.  But 
in  the  conclusions  drawn  below,  only  those  results  are  used 
in  which  the  quanity  sought  is  a  relative  one,  and  in  which 
the  two  clocks  confirmed  each  other  in  giving  ratios  of 
difference  of  the  two  quantities  compared,  both  of  which  are 
in  the  same  sense,  and  each  of  which  is  larger  than  the 
largest  possible  ratio  of  difference  arising  from  the  variable 
error  of  the  clock  to  which  it  belongs. 

The  mean  variations  are  not  given  in  the  tables  which 
follow,  because  they  are  too  complex  to  be  of  any  value. 
These  variations  were  different  for  the  two  clocks,  as  we 
would  expect  from  the  variable  errors  of  the  instruments 
themselves ;  they  also  varied  with  the  disposition  of  the  sub- 
ject in  the  various  groups  of  results  which  are  treated  to- 
gether.1 The  different  mean  variations  for  the  different  lots 
of  experiments  varied  from  10  a-  to  20  er.  For  this  reason  no 
deductions  are  attempted  except  those  evident  on  the  sur- 
face of  the  results  themselves. 

II.  Results:  Sensory  and  Motor  Reactions. — Table  II.  gives 
the  results  of  experiments  on  four  persons  designed  to  test 
the  current  distinction  between  '  sensory  '  and  motor  ('  mus- 
cular') reactions. 

1  Finer  distinctions  were  aimed  at  in  some  of  the  series,  such  as  placing  the  sound 
stimulus  on  one  side  only,  or  in  the  median  plane  below  the  head,  etc.,  as  well  as 
arranging  for  the  difference  between  light  and  dark  environment. 



TABLE  II. — Types  of  Reaction. 


Kin.  Motor.  Vis.  Motor. 

Av.  Motor. 















in  <r. 

in  <r. 

in  cr. 









1  60 

























It  follows  from  Table  II.:  (i)  that  the  current  distinc- 
tion between  sensory  and  motor  reactions  does  not  hold  in 
the  sense  that  the  motor  reaction  is  always  shorter  than  the 
sensory,  for  in  the  case  of  F.  the  motor  reaction  is  40  <r 
longer,  i.  e.,  J  of  this  subject's  average  sensory  reaction 
time.  (2)  As  between  B.  and  S.,  in  the  case  of  each  of 
whom  the  motor-time  is  shorter,  there  is  a  great  difference 
in  the  relative  length  of  the  sensory  to  the  motor.  In  B. 
the  sensory  time  is  only  18  <r,  or  about  ^  longer  than  the 
motor,  while  in  the  case  of  S.  the  sensory  is  48  a-  longer,  or 
about  J;  and  this  despite  the  close  agreement  of  the  two 
subjects  in  their  absolute  motor-time.  We  would  seem  to 
have,  therefore,  in  these  three  observers  three  cases  shown, 
two  giving  very  pronounced  results;  one  a  longer  motor 
time  by  J,  and  the  other  a  longer  sensor  by  J.  The  third 
subject,  B.,  seems  to  fall  between  these  extremes,  giving  a 
difference  in  favor  of  the  motor  reaction,  it  is  true,  but  a 
much  smaller  difference. 

The  tables  also  give  us  reason  for  accepting  the  truth  of 
the  distinction  between  two  kinds  of  motor  reaction.  In 
both  B.  and  S.,  whose  motor  reactions  are  shorter  than  the 
sensory,  we  find  a  difference  in  the  length  of  the  motor  reac- 
tion according  as  the  attention  is  given  to  the  movement 
by  thought  of  the  hand,  the  eyes  being  blindfolded ;  or  as 
the  attention  is  fixed  upon  the  hand,  which  is  seen.  The 
former  I  have  called  the  kincesthetic  motor  reaction,  the  latter 


the  visual  motor.  In  B.  the  visual  motor  is  220-,  or  about 
fy  longer  than  the  '  kinsesthetic ' — that  is,  it  is  practically 
equal  to  this  subject's  sensory  time;  while  in  S.  the  kinaes- 
thetic  motor  is  1 1  <r  shorter  than  the  'visual.'  With  F.,  on 
the  contrary,  there  is  no  distinction  between  the  two  kinds, 
any  possible  trace  of  it  seeming  to  be  lost  in  the  excessive 
preponderance,  in  facility,  of  the  sensory  kind  of  reaction. 

The  table  as  a  whole,  then,  supports  the  views:  (i)  when 
the  motor  reaction  is  short  in  relation  to  the  sensory  (case 
of  S.),  then  this  motor  reaction  is  purest,  freest  from 
sensory  influences,  such  as  sight,  etc. ;  (2)  when  the  motor 
reaction  is  not  pure,  then  it  is  retarded  by  such  influences  as 
sight  (case  of  B.);  (3)  where  the  motor  reaction  is  relatively 
difficult  and  delayed,  as  compared  with  the  sensory  (case  of 
F.),  there  this  prime  difference  renders  all  kinds  of  motor 
reactions  equally  lengthy  and  hesitating.  B.  seems  to  stand 
midway  between  the  two  others  in  this  respect. 

As  I  said  some  time  ago,  in  making  a  first  report  upon  the 
outcome  of  some  of  these  experiments:1  "  In  subjects  of  the 
motor  type  the  '  kinaesthetic  motor '  is  shorter,  the  '  visual 
motor'  time  approximating  the  sensory  reaction  time." 

III.  Light  and  Dark  Reactions  to  Sound. — The  foregoing 
deductions  concerning  the  difference  between  B.  and  S.,  as 
respects  motor  and  sensory  reactions,  and  also  as  respects 
the  distinction  between  visual  and  kinaesthetic  motor  reac- 
tions, are  confirmed  by  results  of  a  research  on  the  same  two 
subjects,  in  which  the  attempt  was  made  to  investigate  the 
influence  of  vision.  Each  reagent  gave  a  series  of  reactions 
in  the  light  of  an  ordinary  laboratory  room,  and  then  re- 
peated the  series  under  the  same  general  conditions,  but  in 
a  dark  chamber.  In  this  case,  in  order  to  make  the  results 
of  the  two  series  comparable,  the  kinassthetic  form  of  motor 
reaction  was  necessary  in  the  series  taken  in  the  light,  since 
only  that  kind  of  motor  reaction  was  possible  in  the  dark. 
The  results  are  given  in  Table  III. 

*New  York  Medical  Record,  April  15,  1893,  p.  455  f. 

264  J.  MARK  BALDWIN. 

TABLE  III. — Reactions  in  Light  and  Dark. 









in  a-. 



in  <T. 


in  a. 


in  a-. 














On  examination  the  data  of  this  table,  compared  with 
those  of  the  preceding  table,  may  be  stated  as  follows :  We 
find  for  B.  that  the  sensory  reaction  is  practically  the  same, 
whether  he  react  in  the  dark  or  in  the  light  (the  latter  is 
less  by  8cr,  which  is  insignificant  in  view  of  the  variable 
error).  This  shows  this  subject's  independence  of  vision  in 
the  sensory  reaction  to  auditory  stimulations,  and  is  in 
agreement  with  the  results  of  Table  II.  (in  which  there  is 
a  similar  difference  between  the  sensory  and  visual  motor, 
the  former  being  longer  by  70-).  S.,  on  the  other  hand, 
shows  a  shortening  of  the  sensory  reaction  when  in  the  dark 
by  180-,  but  a  lengthening  of  the  motor  reaction  when  in  the 
dark  by  210-,  or  about  ^.  The  latter  result  shows  this  sub- 
ject's dependence  upon  vision  only  in  the  motor  kind  of  re- 

IV.  Interpretation. — Admitting  that  these  results  indicate 
clearly  the  existence  of  persons  whose  sensory  reactions  to 
sound  are  shorter  than  their  motor  reactions,  and  that  there 
is  in  some  individuals  a  difference  between  the  length  of  the 
motor  reaction,  according  as  it  is  made  in  the  light  or  in  the 
dark,  we  may  make  some  general  remarks  on  the  theory  oi 
these  differences.  These  results  should  be  compared  with 
earlier  ones,  a  matter  which  is  made  easier  by  reference  to 
the  concise  summing  up  of  the  literature  of  the  subject  by 

1  The  '  dark-reaction '  was  not  secured  from  F. ,  the  '  sensory '  subject ;  but  we 
hope  to  report  further  results  obtained  from  C. ,  the  similar  case  now  found  in  Princeton. 


Titchener  in  Mind.1  We  find  cases  of  relatively  shorter  sen- 
sory times  similar  to  mine  reported  (for  electrical  stimulus) 
by  Cattell,2  and  (for  sound  stimulus)  by  Flournoy 3.  We  may 
accordingly  say  that  such  individual  differences  are  clearly 
established,  and  must  hereafter  be  acknowledged  and  ac- 
counted for  in  any  adequate  theory  of  reaction. 

The  attempt  of  Wundt,  Kiilpe  and  others  to  rule  these 
results  out,  on  the  ground  of  incompetency  in  the  reagents, 
is  in  my  opinion  a  flagrant  argumentum  in  circulo.  Their 
contention  is  that  a  certain  mental  Anlage  or  aptitude  is 
necessary  in  order  to  experimentation  on  reaction-times. 
And  when  we  ask  what  the  Anlage  is,  we  are  told  that  the 
only  indication  of  it  is  the  ability  of  the  reagent  to  turn  out 
reactions  which  give  the  distinction  between  motor  and  sen- 
sory time,  which  Wundt  and  his  followers  consider  the 
proper  one.  In  other  words,  only  certain  cases  prove  their 
result,  and  these  cases  are  selected  because  they  prove  that 
result.  It  is  easy  to  see  that  this  manner  of  procedure  is 
subversive  both  of  scientific  method  and  of  safely-acquired 
results  in  individual  psychology.  For  the  question  comes: 
what  of  these  very  differences  of  individual  Anlage?  How 
did  they  arise ;  what  clo  they  mean ;  why  do  they  give  differ- 
ent reaction-time  results  ?  To  neglect  these  questions,  and 
rule  out  all  Anlagen  but  one,  is  to  get  the  psychology  of 
some  individuals  and  force  it  upon  others,  and  thus  to  make 
the  reaction-method  of  investigation  simply  the  handmaid  to 

The  attempts  to  explain  the  relative  shortness  of  the 
*  muscular'  reaction,  also,  by  those  who  hold  its  shortness 
to  be  a  universal  fact,  have  been  unfortunate.  It  has  been 

^an.,  1895,  p.  74. 

*P  kilos.  Studien,  VIII.,  403. 

*Arck.  des  Set.  Phy.  et  Nat.,  XXVII.,  p.  575,  and  XXVIII.,  p.  319.  Titchener, 
in  his  summing  up,  does  not  cite  the  cases  of  Flournoy  nor  the  earlier  report  of  one  of 
my  present  cases  (F.)  in  the  Medical  Record,  Apl.  15,  1893,  although  they  tell  directly 
against  his  own  views.  My  earliest  case  was  noted  by  me  in  the  autumn  of  1892,  and 
the  note  in  the  Medical  Record was  written  in  December,  1892,  before  I  saw  either 
Cattell's  or  Flournoy's  articles.  The  sentences  quoted  from  my  Senses  and  Intellect 
by  Titchener  in  Mind,  loc.  cit. ,  were  based  upon  my  own  reaction-times,  taken  earlier 
when  I  had  no  reason  to  doubt  the  universality  of  the  experience,  as  claimed  by  Lange 
and  Wundt.  Titchener  is  accordingly  wrong  in  citing  me  as  favoring  that  position. 

266  J.  MARK  BALDWIN. 

held  that  the  muscular  reaction  is  shorter  because  it  is  semi- 
automatic; the  thought  of  a  movement,  i.  e.,  attention  to  it, 
being  already  the  beginning  of  the  innervations  necessary  ta 
its  production.  This  is  very^  true  as  a  principle,  I  think; 
but  it  is  just  the  application  of  this  principle  which  makes  it 
necessary  on  the  part  of  some  to  restrict  reaction  work  to 
people  of  a  special  aptitude.  For  in  all  those  cases,  either 
of  particular  reactions  in  one  individual  or  of  all  reactions 
in  other  individuals,  in  which  the  movement  is  not  so  clearly 
picturable  as  to  be  firmly  and  steadily  held  in  the  attention, 
to  these  cases  the  principle  does  not  apply.  On  the  con- 
trary, to  all  cases  where  it  is  difficult  to  get  the  attention 
fixed  upon  a  motor  representative  of  the  movement,  a  very 
different  principle  applies,  as  Prof.  Cattell  has  said.  The 
very  attempt  to  picture  a  movement  as  a  movement — by  put- 
ting the  attention  on  its  motor  aspect  in  consciousness — 
embarrasses,  confuses  and  delays  the  execution  of  that  move- 
ment in  these  cases.  If  a  marksman  attend  to  his  finger 
on  the  trigger  he  misses  the  target ;  if  a  ball-player  attend 
to  his  hands  he  *  muffs '  the  ball ;  if  a  musician  think  of  each 
finger-movement  he  breaks  down.  The  musician  in  the  la- 
boratory is  usually,  indeed,  a  glaring  instance  of  unsuitable 
A  nlage  ! 

So  it  is  evident  that  these  two  principles  need  reconcil- 
ing in  their  application  to  reaction-times,  the  principles,  i.  e., 
(i),  that  the  thought  of  a  movement  already  begins  it,  facilitates 
if,  quickens  it ;  and  (2)  that  attention  to  a  practised  movement,  in 
many  instances,  embarrasses  it,  hinders  it,  lengthens  it. 

Now  the  practical  reconciliation  of  just  these  two  prin- 
ciples has  been  made  in  another  great  department  of  fact, 
and  the  actual  plotting  done  of  the  cerebral  arrangements 
which  underlie  them — a  solution  which  has  such  evident  appli- 
cation here  that  I  wonder  at  its  tardy  appreciation.  I  refer 
to  the  work  in  the  pathology  of  aphasia,  and  the  general 
theory  of  mental  '  types '  which  now  goes  for  a  safe  discov- 
ery in  the  discussions  of  « internal  speech,'  <  sensory  vs.  motor 
defects'  of  speech,  etc.  I  published  early  in  1893*  an  hy- 

1  See  the  Medical  Record  (N.  Y.),  loc.  cit. 


pothesis  to  account  for  the  variations  in  this  matter  of  reac- 
tion-time differences,  in  these  words : 

"I  have  endeavored  incidentally,  in  an  article  now  in  print  for 
the  July  issue  of  the  Philosophical  RevieivJ-  to  account  for  the  con- 
flicting results  of  experiment  in  this  field,  by  borrowing  from  the 
medical  psychologists  the  results  of  their  brilliant  analysis  of  the 
speech  function,  on  the  basis  of  its  pathology.  The  recognition  of 
the  great  forms  of  aphasia — /.  e.t  sensory  and  motor — and  the  cor- 
responding recognition  of  the  existence  of  visual,  auditory,  and 
motor  speech  types,  gives  a  strong  presumption  that  the  distinction 
between  sensory  and  motor  in  the  voluntary  movements  of  speech 
and  writing  applies  as  well  to  voluntary  movements  of  all  kinds;  that 
is,  to  all  movements  which  have  been  learned  by  attention  and 
effort.  This  means  that  a  man  is  an  'auditive,'  or  a  'visual,'  or  a 
'motor'  in  his  voluntary  movements  generally.  His  attention  is 
trained  by  habit,  education,  etc.,  more  upon  one  class  of  images 
than  upon  others,  his  mind  fills  up  more  easily  with  images  of  this 
class,  and  his  mental  processes  and  voluntary  reactions  proceed  by 
preference  along  these  channels  of  easiest  function. 

"If  this  be  true,  it  is  evident  that  a  man's  reaction-time  will 
show  the  influence  of  his  memory  type.  The  motor-reaction  we 
should  expect  to  be  most  abbreviated  in  the  man  of  the  motor  type; 
and  less  abbreviated,  or  not  so  at  all,  in  the  'visual'  or  'auditory' 
man.  And  experimental  results  must  perforce  show  extraordinary 
variations  as  long  as  these  typical  varieties  are  not  taken  account  of. 
We  are  accordingly,  I  think,  a  long  way  off  from  any  such  exact 
statement  of  absolute  difference  between  sensory  and  motor  reaction- 
time  as  Wundt  makes  in  his  last  edition."2 

It  was  a  sense  of  the  great  naturalness  and  probability 
of  this  hypothesis  that  led  me  early  in  the  fall  of  1892  to 
institute  the  experiments  on  '  visual '  and  « kinaesthetic ' 
motor  reactions  whose  results  are  given  above  in  this  paper.* 

The  secure  establishing  of  cases  which  show  sensory  re- 
actions shorter  than  motor  (i.  e.,  the  cases  now  reported  by 
Cattell,  Flournoy  and  myself),  together  with  the  probable 

1  Article  entitled  "  Internal  Speech  and  Song,"  Phil.  Rev.,  July,  1893. 

*  Physiologische  Psychologic,  3d  ed.,  II.,  p.  261  ff. 

8  At  the  Philadelphia  meeting  of  the  American  Psychological  Association,  on  Dec. 
28,  1892,  I  proposed  the  hypothesis  informally  to  several  American  psychologists. 
Dr.  Lightner  Witmer  will  remember  a  conversation  in  which  the  point  was  remarked 
upon.  I  venture  to  make  these  personal  explanations  since  a  somewhat  similar  expla- 
nation of  his  cases  was  advanced  by  Prof.  Flournoy,  of  Geneva,  in  the  articles  cited 
above.  I  was  not  acquainted  with  Prof.  Flournoy's  views  until,  a  year  later  at  the 
New  York  meeting  of  the  Association,  Prof.  Cattell  brought  them  to  my  attention,  as 
given  in  abstracts  in  the  Revue  Philosophique  and  the  Zeit.  fur  Psych.  I  return  to 
Flournoy's  position  later  on  in  this  paper. 

268  J.  MARK  BALD  WIN. 

distinction  between  the  «  visual '  and  '  kinassthetic '  forms  of 
motor  time,  make  it  advisable  that  this  hypothesis  should  be 
put  in  clearer  evidence.  I  shall  therefore  proceed  to  state 
the  case  for  it  briefly  on  the  basis  of  the  facts  as  they  are 
now  known. 

The  doctrine  of  '  types '  rests  upon  certain  facts  which 
may  be  briefly  summed  up.  A  voluntary  motor  perform- 
ance— say  speech — depends  in  each  particular  exercise  of  it, 
upon  the  possibility  of  getting  clearly  in  mind  (inttrieur, 
inner  lick]  some  mental  picture,  image,  presentation,  which  has 
come  to  stand  for  or  represent  the  particular  movements 
involved.  This  mental  '  cue  '  or  representative  may  belong 
to  either  of  two  great  classes :  it  may  be  a  *  sensory  '  cue  or 
a  '  motor '  cue.  People  are  of  the  sensory  type  or  of  the 
motor  type  for  speech  according  as  their  cue  in  speech  is 
sensory  or  motor;  that  is,  according  as  in  speaking  they 
think  of  the  sounds  of  the  words  as  heard,  the  look  of  the 
words  as  written,  etc. — the  cues  furnished  by  the  special 
senses  associated  habitually  with  speech — this  on  the  one 
hand ;  or  according  as,  on  the  other  hand,  they  think  of  or 
have  in  mind  the  movements  of  the  vocal  organs,  lips, 
tongue,  etc.,  involved  in  speech.  In  the  'motor'  people 
there  are  incipient  movements  in  mind  ;  in  the  '  sensory '  peo- 
ple there  are  special  sense  images  in  mind.  All  this  is  now 
so  clear  from  the  pathological  cases  examined  that  the 
theory  of  localization  of  brain  areas  and  their  connections  is 
applied  to  the  successful  exploration  of  damages  of  the  brain 
when  aphasic  symptoms  furnish  the  main  diagnostic  resource. 

Now,  let  us  see  how  in  these  cases  of  aphasia  the  two 
principles  spoken  of  are  applied.  Suppose  we  agree  with 
the  neurologists  in  saying  that  the  function  of  the  '  cue  '- 
the  mental  image,  be  it  either  motor  or  sensory,  which  when 
thought  of  enables  a  man  to  speak — is  to  release  energy  from 
its  own  brain-seat,  along  association  fibres  or  pathways,  to 
the  motor-seat  which  sends  its  discharges  out  to  bring 
about  the  movement.  Then  the  difference  between  sensory 
and  motor  people  is  simply  that  different  centres — different 
4  cue  '-seats — have  these  connections  with  the  motor  speech 
centres  best  or  better  developed.  A  man  who  speaks  best 


when  he  thinks  of  the  sounds  of  the  words  has  his  best 
'  cue  '-seat  in  the  auditory  centre ;  and  his  best  pathway  to 
the  speech  motor-centre  goes  out  from  this  'cue '-seat. 
For  the  man  who  speaks  best  when  he  thinks  of  the  utter- 
ance of  words,  the  same  may  be  said  of  the  muscle-sense  seat. 

So  it  is  evident — apart  quite  from  the  question  as  to  how 
one  or  other  state  of  things  comes  to  be  as  it  is  in  any  one 
case — that  with  one  man  attention  is  directed  to  the  move- 
ment for  the  best  results,  with  another  to  the  sensation  or 
special  memory  image  in  best  association  with  the  move- 
ment. With  the  former  the  thought  of  the  movement  begins 
the  movement.  But  with  the  other,  if  the  best  doing  of  the 
movement  comes  from  thinking  of  a  sensation  or  special 
image,  then  the  movement  will  be  relatively  deranged,  embar- 
rassed, when  the  attention  is  drawn  from  this  sensation  and 
forced  to  fix  itself  upon  the  movement  itself.  These,  then, 
are  the  two  principles  we  desiderate,  and  they  are  both  natu- 
ral parts  of  the  'type'  theory. 

So  why  not  generalize  this  ?  Speech  cannot  be  con- 
sidered an  exceptional  function  in  its  rise  and  mechanism. 
Other  complex  motor  functions  show  the  same  kinds  or  types 
of  execution  :  handwriting,  music  performing,  etc.1  The  hand 
has,  next  to  the  tongue  possibly,  the  most  delicate,  varied 
and  differentiated  functions  to  perform  ;  and  the  laws  of  asso- 
ciation by  which  sensory  cues,  checks,  controls,  are  affixed 
to  hand  actions  and  combinations,  must  be  the  same  as  those 
involved  in  speech.  So  in  simple  hand  movements  people 
must  show  the  sensory  and  motor  types.  This  is  my  hy- 

The  man,  therefore,  who  gives  relatively  shorter  motor 
reactions  is  a  « motor '  in  his  type ;  with  him  the  thought  of 
movement  is  the  most  facile  beginning  of  the  movement, 
just  because  it  is  really  the  movement,  and  nothing  else,  that 
he  thinks  of.  That  is  his  Anlage.  But  the  man  who  gives 
relatively  shorter  sensory  (auditory,  visual)  reactions,  is  a 
*  sensory '  in  his  type :  with  him  the  attempt  to  think  of  the 

1  See  my  Mental  Development :  Methods  and  Processes,  pp.  91  ff.,  and  438  ff. 
In  Chap.  XIV.  of  that  work,  on  '  The  Mechanism  of  Revival,'  I  have  endeavored  to 
put  in  evidence  the  general  principles  which  underlie  the  type  theory. 



movement  as  a  movement  interferes  with  the  prompt  and 
exact  execution  of  it,  just  because  he  is  not  accustomed  to 
execute  his  movements  in  that  way.  That  is  his  Anlage. 
But,  of  course,  the  two  sorts  of  people  have  equal  claim  to 
recognition  in  science.  Suppose  a  dead  aphasic  brought  for 
autopsy  to  a  surgeon,  who  inquires  into  the  life-history  of 
the  man,  and  finding  that  he  was  of  the  sensory  type,  then 
declares  that  the  body  is  not  fit  for  a  scientific  autopsy,  be- 
cause the  man  did  not  have  the  proper  type  of  aphasia!  As 
a  matter  of  fact,  so  near  are  the  disciples  of  Wundt  to  the 
explanation  by  types  that  it  is  only  necessary  to  translate 
their  word  A nlage  by  'type,'  and  then  apply  the  connota- 
tions of  that  term  in  the  examination  of  refractory  cases,  to 
bring  them  into  line.  I  may  accordingly  sum  up  in  the 
words  of  my  earlier  article  (Philos.  Rev.,  II,  395): 

"We  have  in  this  fact  of  types  the  explanation  of  the  contradic- 
tory results  reached  by  different  investigators  in  the  matter  of  motor 
reactions.  Some  find  motor  reactions  shorter,  as  I  have  said  above; 
others  do  not.  The  reason  is,  probably,  that  in  some  subjects  the 
'sensory'  type  is  so  pronounced  that  the  attention  cannot  be  held 
on  the  muscular  reaction  without  giving  confusion  and  an  abortive 
result.  On  the  other  hand,  some  persons  are  so  clearly  '  motor '  in 
ordinary  life,  that  sensory  reaction  is  in  like  manner  artificial,  and 
its  time  correspondingly  long.  And  yet  again  others  may  be  neu- 
tral as  regards  sensor  or  motor  preferences.  If  this  be  true,  an- 
other element  of  *  abounding  uncertainty '  is  introduced  into  all  the 
results  of  experiments  so  far  performed  in  this  field,  as  reflection  on 
the  matter  will  show." 

One  or  two  further  points,  however,  may  be  made  which 
give  the  correct  interpretation  more  importance  than  the 
simple  facts  in  themselves  really  have.  .  In  the  first  place, 
an  additional  tendency  seems  to  show  itself  when  move- 
ments become  very  habitual — a  tendency  recognized  in  all 
discussions  of  the  principle  of  habit.  Habitual  perform- 
ances tend  to  become  independent  of  consciousness,  atten- 
tion, thought,  altogether.  This  tendency  should  make  itself 
evident  in  reaction-time  work,  and  reagents  of  great  practise 
should  show,  (i)  diminishing  time  in  all  reactions,  and  (2) 
diminishing  difference  between  the  two  kinds  of  times,  sen- 
sory and  muscular.  Further,  the  same  tendency  should 
.show  itself  in  a  diminishing  difference  'between  Individuals 


of  different  types  as  they  both  get  more  practise.  All  these 
results  are,  I  think,  clearly  shown  in  those  of  the  earlier  re- 
searches in  which  the  amount  of  practise  is  reported.1 

And,  again,  finer  distinctions  of  type  follow  from  the 
general  theory  :  such  distinctions  as  those  clearly  established 
for  speech.  The  '  visual,'  <  auditory,'  and  possibly  (as  in  the 
blind)  '  touch '  types  of  speech  are  all  included  under  the 
head  of  sensory.  As  I  have  said,  the  speech  case  is  a  case 
of  finer  reaction-time  distinctions.  And  the  hand,  as  used 
in  most  reaction  experiments,  ought  to  show  to  a  greater  or 
less  degree  similar  distinctions.2  The  cases  so  far  discov- 
ered of  relatively  shorter  sensory  reactions  seem  to  be,  as 
far  as  reported,  auditory  (musicians)  and  visual  (Flournoy's). 
To  determine  between  *  visual '  and  «  auditory  '  times  for  any 
individual,  of  course  the  same  set  of  reaction  experiments 
should  be  made  with  the  two  classes  of  stimulations,  each 
being  compared  with  the  muscular  reactions  to  the  same 
stimulus  respectively. 

The  general  result  follows  (if  this  hypothesis  get  accept- 
ance) that  the  reaction-time  experiment  becomes  of  use 
mainly  as  &  method.  Distinctions  supposed  to  be  established 
once  for  all  by  various  researches  must  be  considered  as 
largely  individual  results,  inasmuch  as  the  authors  have  not 
reported  on  the  type  of  the  reagent.  But  for  that  very  rea- 
son these  results  may  have  great  value,  as  themselves  indi- 
cating in  each  case  this  very  thing,  the  type  of  one  single 
reagent,  and  in  so  far  some  of  the  general  characteristics  of 
that  type.  What  we  now  desiderate  in  a  great  many  de- 
partments, as,  for  example,  in  the  treatment  of  school  chil- 
dren, and  in  the  diagnosis  of  complex  mental  troubles,  is 
just  some  method  of  discovering  the  type  of  the  individual 

1  Consequently  it  does  not  do  to  say,  with  Wundt  and  Klilpe,  that  the  *  muscu- 
lar '  reaction  is  more  automatic.  Of  course  it  is  so  in  those  who  give  a  shorter  motor 
reaction — that  is  sufficient  proof  of  it.  But  that  the  sensory  time  is  shorter  in  others 
is  sufficient  proof,  also,  that  in  their  case  the  sensory  reaction  is  more  automatic . 
Klilpe's  two-arm  reaction  experiment  is  subject  to  this  criticism,  among  others  (see 
Wundt,  /of.  cit.,  p.  325  ;  KUlpe's  Grundriss,  pp.  422  f.). 

8  A  possible  instance  of  such  variation  is  seen  in  the  case  of  Bonders,  which 
Wundt  has  difficulty  with  (Phys.  Psych.,  III8.,  II.,  p.  268).  Say  the  reagent  was 
*  visual '  in  his  type,  and  we  have  reason  for  his  shorter  reactionto  light  than  to  sound, 
while  he  still  falls  under  the  sensory  type  in  general. 

2  72  J.  MARK  BALD  WIN. 

in  hand.  If  reactions  vary  in  certain  great  ways,  according 
to  the  types  which  they  illustrate,  then  in  reaction  experi- 
mentation we  have  a  great  objective  method  of  study.  But 
before  the  method  can  be  called  in  any  way  complete,  there 
should  be  a  detailed  re-investigation  of  the  whole  question, 
with  a  view  to  the  great  distinctions  of  mental  type  already 
made  out  by  the  pathologists.1 

A  word  should  be  added  concerning  the  position  of  Pro- 
fessor Flournoy.  The  hypothesis  which  I  have  advanced 
has  been  attributed  also  to  Flournoy,  his  name  being  con- 
nected with  mine  as  independent  advocates  of  it  (by  Cattell,, 
Titchener,  etc.).  I  think  this  is  a  mistake,  at  least  so  far  as  the 
publications  of  Professor  Flournoy  are  taken  as  evidence.  His 
case,  cited  as  of  the  '  type  visuel,'  seems  to  imply  the  exist- 
ence of  other  types  it  is  true ;  and  at  the  close  of  his  second 
article  he  raises  the  question,  "si  la  fac,on  de  reagir  ob- 
serv6e  chez  M.  Y.,  n'est  qu'une  singularite  individuelle,  ou 
si  elle  est  un  fait  general  et  constant  dans  le  type  visuel  d'im- 
agination."  But  what  he  means  in  the  context  by  '  type 
visuel '  is  not  what  is  meant  by  that  phrase  in  the  general- 
ized usage  of  the  pathologists.  His  case  is  *  visual '  in  the 
sense  that  the  man  thinks  of  movements  by  a  visual  picture 
of  his  arm,  rather  than  by  muscle-sense  images  (just  what  I 
have  distinguished  above  as  *  visual  motor '  in  distinction 
from  «  kinaesthetic  motor;'  and  the  case  is  a  fine  confirmation 
of  the  conclusions  given  above  under  that  head).  But  it 
does  not  follow  that  the  man  is  a  'visual'  in  the  broader 
sense.  He  might  just  as  likely  be  an  'auditive.'  The 
most  that  can  be  said  of  Flournoy's  case,  on  the  general 
doctrine  of  types — other  evidence  aside — is  that  he  is  «  sen- 
sory,' and  on  my  theory  his  shorter  sensory  reaction-time 
proves  it.  But  Flournoy  makes  no  such  general  application 
of  the  theory  of  types.  Indeed,  in  asking  the  question 
which  I  have  quoted  from  him  (i.  e.,  whether  all  visuals 
would  react  as  this  man  did),  he  shows  that  he  does  not  mean 

*I  have  earlier  indicated  (Med.  Record,  loc.  cit.,  and  P kilos.  Rev.,  loc.  «'/.),  the 
possible  use  of  this  method  by  brain  surgeons,  an  idea  which  Wallaschek  comments  oa 
with  approval.  Certain  general  indications  from  reaction-times  are  already  recognized 
by  physicians,  especially  in  investigating  various  anaesthesias. 


to  bring  reactions  generally  under  the  type  theory.  For  the 
real  '  visual '  might  give  a  shorter  «  visual  motor '  than  «  sen- 
sory '  time — i.  e.,  when  the  stimulus  reacted  to  is  other  than 
visual  (say  auditory) ;  since  then  the  visualizing  habit  would 
throw  its  influence  on  the  side  of  the  motor  reaction. 

In  the  matter  of  the  distinction  between  «  visual  motor' 
and  ' kinassthetic  motor'  reactions,  however,  Flournoy's 
case  clearly  anticipated  mine  in  print.1 


BY    H.    C.    WARREN. 

The  following  experiments  were  undertaken  in  connec- 
tion with  some  other  series,  with  a  view  to  determining  the 
manner  in  which  conflicting  data  from  different  senses  are 
harmonized.  As  they  have,  in  addition  to  this,  a  special 
bearing  on  the  sense  of  rotation,  it  seems  best  to  give  their 
results  separately.  The  particular  object  of  this  investiga- 
tion was  to  determine  the  relative  influence  of  sight  and  the 
internal  sense  of  rotation  on  the  subjective  estimate  of  move- 
ment. Messrs.  W.  J.  Shaw  and  G.  A.  Tawney  kindly  acted 
as  subjects  during  the  entire  series,  which  consisted  of 
sittings  about  20  minutes  long,  twice  a  week,  extending  over 
a  period  of  four  months  in  the  early  part  of  the  year  1894. 

The  experiments  were  conducted  in  a  dark  room,  8x8  ft. 
The  subject  lay  at  full  length  on  his  back  on  a  rotation-board, 
with  the  head  somewhat  raised  and  eyes  so  screened  as  to 
permit  of  his  seeing  only  a  small  area  of  wall  in  front.  At 
the  foot  of  the  board,  and  covering  entirely  his  restricted 
field  of  vision,  was  a  large  screen  with  an  aperture  eight 
inches  square,  behind  which  a  mirror  could  be  hung.  On 
two  opposite  walls  of  the  room  were  hung  strips  of  white 
paper,  an  inch  wide,  reaching  nearly  from  ceiling  to  floor, 
and  placed  about  a  foot  apart,  which  could  be  seen  plainly  in 
a  very  faint  light,  when  no  other  outlines  or  shadows  were 

1  Since  revising  the  proofs  of  this  article  I  have  received  a  note  from  M.  Flour- 
noy  in  which  he  says:  "Je  suis,  d'une  fa9©n  generate,  d'accord  avec  vous  sur 
1'influence  du  type  d'imagination "  (making  reference  to  my  article  in  the  Medical 

274  H-   c-   WARREN. 

distinguishable  on  the  screen  or  wall.  When  the  subject 
closed  his  eyes,  or  the  board  was  turned  so  that  no  strips 
were  visible,  the  usual  phenomena  of  rotary  sensation  were 
observed;  the  least  discernible  movement  was  i°  a  second; 
a  movement  greater  than  this,  if  continued,  gradually  ceased 
to  be  noticeable,  and  any  change  in  the  rate  was  then  inter- 
preted as  a  new  movement  starting  from  a  state  of  rest. 
But  when  the  subject,  believing  himself  to  be  at  rest,  was 
turned  so  that  the  strips  came  into  view,  a  conflict  arose 
between  the  internal  sense  and  the  visual  sense,  which  had 
to  be  reconciled  by  some  mode  of  interpreting  the  data. 
The  experiments  included  trials  both  with  and  without  the 
mirror,  the  subject  never  knowing  whether  the  mirror  was 
in  or  not.1 

(i)  With  the  minimum  light  by  which  the  strips  were 
discernible,  the  sense  of  sight  played  no  role  whatever  in  the 
judgment,  the  strips  appearing  sometimes  to  flit  across  the 
field  of  vision,  and  sometimes  to  move  with  the  subject, 
according  to  the  data  furnished  by  the  internal  sense. 
(2)  With  an  illumination  ranging  from  one  to  six  candles, 
visual  impressions  strengthened  the  internal  sense  of  move- 
ment when  they  agreed,  or  tended  to  inhibit  it  when  the 
conflict  was  not  too  great.  Thus,  with  the  mirror  removed, 
the  sight  of  the  strips  made  even  the  slightest  movement 
perceptible,  and  checked  the  sensation  of  reversed  move- 
ment which  occurs  after  a  real  movement  ceases.  With  the 
mirror  in,  the  least  perceptible  movement  was  between 
i°  and  2°  per  second.  Movements  greater  than  this  were 
usually  interpreted  (when  the  strips  were  visible)  as  lateral 
movements  of  progression  in  the  direction  in  which  the  head  was 
actually  moving.  A  sudden  stop  converted  this  into  a  judg- 
ment of  rotation  in  the  opposite  direction.  Sometimes,  how- 
ever, especially  with  very  rapid  movements,  they  were 

1  One  of  the  subjects  (T.)  did  not  know  of  the  mirror  at  all  until  the  series  was 
nearly  completed.  S.  generally  could  not  tell  whether  it  was  in  or  not ;  I  questioned 
him  at  the  end  of  each  sitting,  and  found  that,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  he  never  considered 
it  in  making  his  judgments,  being  too  busy  observing  and  reporting.  T.  was  more 
inclined  to  dizziness  than  S.,  and  his  experiences  were  consequently  less  distinct  and 
his  answers  less  uniform.  In  general  the  two  subjects  agreed.  I  also  confirmed  a 
number  of  the  results  here  given  by  experiments  on  myself. 

S  TV  DIE  S  FROM  THE  PRINCE  TON  LA  BORA  TOR  Y.          2?$ 

interpreted  as  rotary,  and  the  strips  were  declared  to  be 
moving  also,  but  faster  than  the  subject.  (3)  With  a  bright 
gas  jet  burning,  the  corners  of  the  walls  and  many  other  out- 
lines were  plainly  visible,  and  gave  more  general  indications 
of  a  stable  environment  than  the  strips  afforded.  The  judg- 
ment of  progressive  movement  now  occurred  uniformly,  except 
when  the  board  was  started  with  a  sudden  jar;  the  subject 
was  unable  to  rid  himself  of  the  illusion ;  he  would  seem  to 
be  moving  steadily  sideways,  even  though  he  knew  the  im- 
possibility of  doing  so  in  a  small  room.  The  writer  con- 
firmed these  results  personally.  (4)  In  the  final  series  the 
subject  sat  upright  at  the  center  of  the  board,  with  his  head 
slightly  in  front  of  the  center  of  rotation.  In  this  position 
the  interpretation  of  the  movement  as  progressive  is  im- 
possible, if  the  internal  sensations  in  the  head  are  regarded ; 
and  as  a  matter  of  fact  no  such  judgment  was  given.  Care- 
ful and  repeated  measurement  by  the  metronome  gave  the 
following  results,  with  the  mirror  in  and  a  very  strong  light 
(two  gas-jets):  (a]  Movements  of  less  than  2°  per  second 
were  judged  to  be  objective  merely,  (b)  Movements  of  2°- 
5°  per  second  were  interpreted  as  subjective,  but  in  the 
reverse  direction  from  that  in  which  they  were  actually 
occurring;  i.  e.,  they  were  felt  as  movements,  but  their 
direction  was  determined  not  by  the  internal  sense,  but  by 
sight,  and  they  were  thought  to  be  in  the  opposite  direction 
on  account  of  the  mirror,  (c)  Movements  greater  than  5°  per 
second  were  interpreted  correctly,  with  the  remark  that  the 
wall  was  moving  also  in  the  same  direction  as  the  feet,  and 
faster.  The  transition  from  (b)  to  (c)  was  very  distinct; 
several  times  the  speed  was  varied  during  the  trial  from 
greater  to  less  than  5°,  or  vice  versa,  and  each  time  there 
was  an  immediate  change  of  judgment  as  to  the  direction  of 
the  movement.  A  single  '  trial'  in  this  case  was  always 
limited  to  10  sec.,  in  order  to  avoid  the  feeling  of  'slowing 
up'  which  accompanies  uniform  movement. 

Aside  from  the  last-mentioned  phenomenon,  which  be- 
longs more  properly  to  the  general  subject  of  conflict  among 
sense  impressions,  the  most  noteworthy  result  was  the  trans- 
formation of  rotary  into  progressive  movement,  by  means  of 

276  H.   C.  WARREN. 

visual  data.  Suppose  the  actual  movement  to  be  clock- wise. 
The  head  moves  to  the  left,  the  feet  to  the  right,  and  the 
strips  and  wall  reflected  beyond  the  feet  are  carried  much 
faster  to  the  right.  But  only  the  difference  between  the 
rate  of  the  feet  and  the  rate  of  the  back-ground  is  taken  into 
account;  the  back-ground  is  considered  stationary,  and  the 
movement  is  interpreted  as  a  movement  of  the  subject  bodily 
to  the  left.  We  may  infer  from  this  that  the  end-organ  of 
the  internal  sense  of  rotation  is  in  the  head  alone,  since 
movements  of  the  lower  extremities  are  open  to  such  absolute 
misjudgment.  We  are  also  led  to  the  conclusion  that 
the  organ  for  the  sense  of  rotation  is  the  same  as  that  for 
progressive  movement.  This  is  directly  contrary  to  the  con- 
clusion reached  by  Delage,  who  denies  that  the  sense-organ 
for  progressive  movement  is  in  the  head,  while  admitting  it 
for  rotary  movement.1  These  results,  moreover,  seem  to 
favor  the  view  that  the  semi-circular  canals  constitute  that 
organ,  in  spite  of  the  objections  recently  raised  by  Ayers 
and  others  on  morphological  grounds.2  A  special  sense- 
organ  seems  requisite  for  such  a  sense,  and  the  above  results 
tend  to  locate  that  organ  in  the  head.  In  our  experiments 
the  sense  of  sight  was  made  to  furnish  data  of  movement 
independent  of  the  internal  sense.  In  the  head  the  latte] 
sense  was  so  strong  that,  within  the  given  limits  of  visual 
field  and  luminosity,  a  conflict  between  the  two  senses  in- 
variably resulted  in  its  favor,  and  any  movement  observed 
merely  visually  was  attributed  to  the  objects  in  the  environ- 
ment. Yet  when  the  lower  extremities  were  moving  quite 
rapidly  in  one  direction  they  were  constantly  declared  to  be 
moving  in  the  other,  on  the  testimony  of  visual  data.  The 
'internal  sense'  of  movement  must  therefore  be  due  to 
something  other  than  the  general  indication  furnished  by  the 
vaso-motor  system,  which  would  affect  all  parts  of  the  body 

1  Physiologische   Studien   Uber   die   Orientirung,    von    Delage ;  deutsch  von    H. 
Aubert;  pp.  94-95. 

a  Journal  of  Morphol.  1892,  VI,  pp.  237-256. 



BY    R.    W.    WOOD. 

I  was  much  interested  this  summer  in  the  curious  sensa- 
tions produced  by  a  purely  optical  illusion,  known  as  the 
'Haunted  Swing,'  at  the  Midwinter  Fair  in  San  Francisco. 
On  entering  the  building  we  found  ourselves  in  a  spacious 
cubical  room,  furnished  with  a  sofa,  table,  chairs,  etc.,  a 
massive  iron  safe,  and  a  piano,  together  with  other  minor 
articles.  But  the  most  conspicuous  object  was  the  huge 
swing,  capable  of  holding  forty  or  more  persons,  which  hung 
in  the  centre,  suspended  from  an  iron  cylinder  which  passed 
through  the  centre  of  the  room.  We  took  our  seats  and  the 
swing  was  put  in  motion,  the  arc  gradually  increasing  in 
amplitude  until  each  oscillation  carried  us  apparently  into 
the  upper  corners  of  the  room.  Each  vibration  of  the  swing 
caused  those  peculiar  '  empty  '  sensations  within  which  one 
feels  in  an  elevator;  and  as  we  rushed  backwards  toward  the 
top  of  the  room  there  was  a  distinct  feeling  of  '  leaning  for- 
ward,' if  I  can  so  describe  it — such  as  one  always  experi- 
ences in  a  backward  swing,  and  an  involuntary  clutching  at 
the  seats  to  keep  from  being  pitched  out.  We  were  then 
told  to  hold  on  tightly  as  the  swing  was  going  clear  over,  and, 
sure  enough,  so  it  did,  though  the  illusion  was  not  so  per- 
fect as  the  high  oscillations. 

The  device  was  worked  in  the  following  way :  The  swing 
proper  was  practically  at  rest,  merely  being  joggled  a  trifle, 
while  the  room  itself  was  put  in  motion,  the  furniture  being 
fastened  down  to  the  floor,  so  that  it  could  be  turned  com- 
pletely over.  The  illusion  was  good,  though  the  absence  of 
centrifugal  force,  and  the  fact  that  the  swing  did  not  move 
with  uniform  acceleration  as  it  descended,  would  indicate  to 
a  careful  observer  that  he  was  not  swinging  freely.  The 
curious  and  interesting  feature  however,  was,  that  even 
though  the  action  was  fully  understood,  as  it  was  in  my  case, 
it  was  impossible  to  quench  the  sensations  of  'goneness 
within  '  with  each  apparent  rush  of  the  swing.  The  minute 
the  eyes  were  shut  the  sensations  vanished  instantly.  Many 
persons  were  actually  made  sick  by  the  illusion.  I  have  met 



a  number  of  gentlemen  who  said  they  could  scarcely  walk 
out  of  the  building  from  dizziness  and  nausea.  I  myself  ex- 
perienced no  sensations  of  dizziness,  being  accustomed  to 
heights  and  to  rapid  motion ;  but  the  sensation  before  de- 
scribed was  always  present  (and  I  visited  the  place  several 
times),  though  I  tried  to  suppress  it  and  reason  against  it. 



In  the  course  of  a  late  operation  upon  one  of  my  teeth  I 
experienced  a  very  powerful  and  distinct  sensation  of  heat 
whenever  the  dental  instrument  touched  a  very  thin  layer 
of  the  tooth  substance  (dentine)  which  still  remained  protect- 
ing the  '  pulp  '  from  exposure. 

The  well-known  Dr.  Frank  Abbott,  who  operated  upon 
my  tooth,  and  whose  long  and  wide  experience  enables  him 
to  speak  with  authority,  assures  me  that  this  sensation  of 
heat  is  entirely  independent  of  the  temperature  of  the  instru- 
ment employed:  that  in  his  experience  he  finds  that  any 
mechanical  irritation  of  the  dentinal  fibers,  when  inflamed, 
will  produce  this  sensation  of  burning,  it  being  especially 
marked  when  the  fibres  are  dragged  asunder  by  the  revolv- 
ing instruments  often  used.  The  same  heat  sensation  is 
produced,  he  tells  me,  by  the  rapid  absorption  of  moisture 
produced  by  placing  against  this  highly  sensitive  tissue  a 
bit  of  '  spunk'  or  <  bulbulous  paper,'  or  other  rapid-absorbing 
substance.  The  substance  called  '  spunk,'  which  he  uses  for 
this  purpose,  is  supposed  to  be  nothing  more  than  a  tree 
fungus  of  especially  fine  fibrous  nature. 

It  is  apparent  that  we  have  here  a  production  of  heat 
sensations  by  stimulations  which  do  not  correspond  in  any 
evident  way  with  the  stimulations  that  produce  heat  in  the 
'heat  spots'  on  the  surface  of  the  skin.  I  think  it  well 
to  make  note  of  these  particular  dental  experiences  in  order 
that  those  who  may  be  investigating  the  nature  of  the  pro- 
cesses involved  in  the  production  of  our  sensations  of  heat  and 
cold  may  upon  occasion  verify  them,  and  may  coordinate 
them  with  the  more  familiar  means  of  heat  production  in  the 
formulation  of  their  theories. 


Considerable  interest  attaches  to  the  recent  articles  on  Emotion 
by  Professors  Baldwin  and  Dewey.  Both  these  writers  are  in  favor 
of  the  James  theory,  but  each  has  arrived  at  his  results  in  his  own 
way,  and  has  his  own  view  with  regard  to  the  weak  points  of  the 
original  statement  of  the  theory  and  the  value  of  the  emendations 
that  have  recently  been  made.  I  do  not  propose,  however,  to  deal 
with  all  the  points  of  interest  here  involved.  I  shall  merely  discuss 
briefly  the  main  arguments  brought  forward. 

Professor  Dewey  contends  that  "all  so-called  expressions  of 
emotion  are  in  reality  the  reduction  of  movements  and  stimulations 
originally  useful  into  attitudes"  (Psv.  REV.,  I,  6,  569).  They  are 
explicable  by  reference  to  useful  acts,  and  therefore  cannot  be  de- 
duced from  an  antecedent  emotion.  Now,  the  term  '  expression  of 
emotion '  is  ambiguous,  not  only  in  denotation,  but  also  in  connota- 
tion. Few  would  assert  that  the  bodily  changes  usually  signified  by 
this  mode  of  speech  are  primarily  intended  to  show  that  a  cer- 
tain individual  has  a  particular  emotion.  The  majority  of  psycholo- 
gists would  agree  that  the  movements  in  question  are  in  the  main 
ideologically  conditioned.  The  question  is,  whether  you  can  con- 
clude from  this  that  they  cannot  be  regarded  as  the  outcome  of 
some  antecedent  emotion.  Professor  Dewey's  argument  depends 
on  the  assumption  that  no  useful  action  can  be  explained  by  refer- 
ence to  emotion.  But  surely  the  natural  supposition  is  that  so 
prominent  a  fact  of  consciousness  has  some  function,  and  therefore 
directly  or  indirectly  influences  our  actions.  Professor  Dewey  himself 
says  that  "hope,  fear,  delight,  sorrow,  terror,  love  are  too  im- 
portant and  too  relevant  in  pur  lives  ttrbe  in  the  main  the  'feel*  of 
bodily  attitudes  which  have  themselves  no  meaning"  (Psv.  REV.,  I, 
6>  563).  It  is  hard  to  see  how  these  can  be  important  or  relevant 
in  our  lives,  if  it  is  enough  to  dissociate  an  action  from  them  to  show 
that  it  has  a  purpose  or  end.  I  do  not  assert  that  all  the  bodily 
changes,  internal  and  external,  are  the  result  of  emotion.  My  con- 
tention is  that  it  does  not  follow,  merely  because  movements  are 



purposive,  that  they  have  no  connection  with  emotion  ;  and,  fur- 
ther, that  it  would  be  a  strange  thing  if  this  conclusion  were  correct. 

We  must  now  consider  how  far  the  detailed  account  of  the  bodily 
changes  supports  the  '  effect '  theory.  A  distinction  is  drawn,  im- 
plicitly at  all  events,  between  the  internal  organic  disturbance  and 
those  outward  movements  which  are  actions  in  the  true  sense,  since 
they  are  directed  towards  some  end.  With  regard  to  the  latter,  no 
explanation  is  given.  All  that  is  done  is  to  show  that  they  are 
directly  teleological.  It  is  first  assumed  that  emotion  can  have  no 
connection  with  useful  actions,  and  then  actions  of  this  sort  are 
simply  taken  for  granted.  If,  however,  they  cannot  be  deduced 
from  the  emotion,  it  is  legitimate  to  demand  some  account  of  their 
origin.  It  cannot  be  too  strongly  emphasized  that  the  so-called 
'  cause '  theory  has  an  intelligible  explanation  to  offer,  while  the 
*  effect '  theory  is  silent  on  the  point.  Further,  as  Professor  Bald- 
win brings  out  so  clearly,  it  is  not  easy  to  see  how  any  explanatioi 
can  be  given,  on  the  principles  of  the  latter  view,  which  will  fit  in1 
a  theory  of  development. 

A  complication  is  introduced  by  the  fact  that  some  of  these 
movements,  such  as  the  crouching  of  fear  and  the  clenching  of  th( 
fist  in  anger,  are  reflex.  It  is  easy  to  understand,  however,  that 
once  these  actions  have  been  voluntarily  performed  under  the  influ- 
ence of  a  certain  emotion,  they  arise  reflexly  in  circumstances  simi- 
lar to  those  with  which  they  were  first  connected.  The  identity  of 
circumstance  redintegrates  the  old  movements,  and  so  emotioi 
and  action  appear  simultaneously.  In  these  cases,  of  course,  the 
bodily  changes  are  not  caused  by  the  particular  emotion  which  the] 
accompany.  On  the  other  hand,  these  reflexes  are  not  the  only 
'  expressions '  of  emotion.  The  original  expression  of  anger,  for 
instance,  was  doubtless  a  blow.  The  clenching  of  the  fist  points  to 
restraining  influences.  But,  though  we  do  not  now  use  crude  physi- 
cal measures  exclusively,  civilization  does  not  leave  us  altogether 
helpless.  The  covert  sneer,  the  insulting  stare,  the  cutting  remark 
are  at  our  service.  These  and  similar  purposive  actions  require  to 
be  accounted  for.  The  natural  thing  is  to  regard  them  as  the 
effects  of  the  emotion.  There  is  an  intelligible  relation  between 
them  and  the  psychical  state.  An  individual  possessed  with  hate  of 
some  person  will  tell  you  that  '  he  feels  as  if  he  could ' — do  him  all 
sort  of  injury.  It  is  reasonable  to  suppose  that  this  feeling  condi- 
tions the  action  of  retaliation.  When  it  is  asserted  that  this  pecu- 
liar feeling  towards  the  person  only  arrives  after  the  action  has 
actually  taken  place,  we  are  at  liberty  to  entertain  a  doubt  in  the 


matter.     When  we  find  that  no  explanation  whatever  is  given  of  the 
appearance  of  the  action,  our  doubt  will  scarcely  be  diminished. 

The  organic  changes,  then,  which  are  directly  teleological,  must 
be  regarded  as  falling  into  two  classes,  namely,  reflexes  and  volun- 
tary movements.  As  Professor  Baldwin  shows,  the  effect-theory 
does  not  and  cannot  afford  any  explanation  of  the  origin  of  the 
former  in  the  first  instance.  The  latter  can  scarcely  be  said  to  be 
taken  into  account  at  all,  for  the  view  is  not  worked  out  in  detail. 
Cases  like  fear  are  used  as  instances  where  the  action  is  practically 
the  same  under  all  circumstances,  so  that  the  reflex  and  the  volun- 
tary movements  coincide.1 

The  internal  organic  changes  remain,  and  Professor  Dewey  really 
faces  the  question  here  by  attempting  to  show  how  they  can  be 
accounted  for  without  reference  to  an  antecedent  emotion.  They 
result  from  "the  effort  of  the  organism  to  adjust  its  formed  habits 
or  coordinations  of  the  past  to  present  necessities  as  made  known  in 
perception  or  idea.  The  emotion  is  psychologically  the  adjustment 
or  tension  of  habit  and  ideal,  and  the  organic  changes  are  the  literal 
working  out  in  concrete  terms  of  the  struggle  of  adjustment "  (Psv. 
REV.,  II,  i,  p.  30).  The  habitual  reaction  does  not  harmonize  with 
the  mode  of  action  which  the  present  circumstances  seem  to  demand. 
Hence  there  is  a  conflict,  and,  as  a  result  of  this,  disturbances  of 
visceral  and  associated  organs,  "which  is  just  what  we  might  expect 
when  there  is  a  great  stirring  up  of  energy  preparatory  to  activity, 
but  no  defined  channel  of  discharge"  (Psv.  REV.,  I,  6,  565).  It  is 
not  easy  to  understand  why  the  habitual  reaction  should  assert  itself 
so  strongly  in  circumstances  where  it  is  obviously  so  much  out  of 
place,  and  insist  on  being  '  coordinated '  with  the  new  mode  of  be- 
havior. Nor  is  it  obvious  how  emotion  can  be  the  '  tension  of  habit 
and  ideal,'  prior  to  action,  when  it  is  first  constituted  after  the  action 
has  taken  place  (II.  i.  pp.  18,  22).  Leaving  these  points  undis- 
cussed,  let  us  ascertain  the  results  which  follow  from  the  explana- 
tion of  the  internal  organic  agitation  here  given.  In  the  first  place, 
the  course  taken  by  the  deflected  energy  would  seem  to  be  mechani- 
cally determined  as  Professor  James  suggests  (Principles  of  Psycholo- 
gy, II.,  p.  482).  It  will  be  dependent"  on  the  individual  organism 
and  its  state  at  the  moment.  Professor  Dewey  is  quick  to  see  the 
effect  of  this.  "If  the  bodily  attitude  is  wholly  accidental,  then 
the  emotion  itself  is  brute  and  insignificant,  upon  a  theory  which 

1  In  this  connection  one  might  safely  venture  the  assertion  that  the  theory  under 
discussion  would  not  seem  so  convincing  if  it  were  applied  all  round,  instead  of  being 
•stated  generally,  and  merely  illustrated  by  one  or  two  favorable  instances. 

282  D.  IKONS. 

holds  that  emotion  is  the  'feel'  of  such  an  attitude"  (I,  6,  p.  563). 
He  finds  it  '  more  or  less  intolerable '  that  any  idiopathic  effects 
should  be  l  purely  mechanical  outpourings  through  the  easiest  avail- 
able channel,' and  maintains  that  the  easiest  path  is  determined  by 
habits  which,  upon  the  whole,  were  evolved  as  useful  (I,  6,  p.  563). 
It  would  be  very  difficult,  however,  to  prove  that  the  bodily  excite-' 
ment  could  ever  have  been  useful ;  and  until  such  proof  is  offered, 
the  '  intolerable '  supposition  of  Professor  James  must  be  regarded 
as  the  more  probable. 

In  the  second  place,  under  whatever  circumstances  the  energy  is 
aroused,  the  same  amount  spreading  through  the  same  organism  at 
the  same  time  will  have  the  same  effects.  There  is  simply  so  much 
energy  which  is  under  a  mechanical  necessity  to  find  an  outlet. 
That  the  special  occasion  has  no  influence  in  determining  the  actual 
channels  of  discharge  is  rendered  more  obvious  when  we  remember 
that  the  whole  process  is  necessary  just  because  action,  appropriate 
to  the  particular  case,  has  been  inhibited.  In  every  emotional  state 
of  the  same  intensity,  therefore,  the  physical  agitation  will  be  prac- 
tically the  same  ;  and  this  is  a  result  more  than  serious  to  those  who- 
assert  that  the  bodily  changes  cause  the  emotion.  When  the  alleged 
causes  are  so  much  alike,  why  should  the  psychical  effects  be  so^ 
widely  different  ? 

I  do  not  criticise  Professor  Dewey  for  attempting  to  account  for 
the  internal  organic  disturbance  without  reference  to  emotion.  It 
seems  to  me  that  he  has  shown  that  the  phenomenon  in  question  can- 
not be  regarded  as  an  effect  of  the  emotion  ;  and,  further,  that  he 
has  indicated  the  right  principle *  by  which  its  origin  is  to  be  under- 
stood. My  point  is  that  the  consequences  have  been  shown  to  be 
disastrous  to  the  theory  he  has  adopted.  For  instance,  one  of  the 
great  difficulties  which  has  to  be  met  is  that  the  bodily  changes  do 
not  vary  sufficiently  in  the  case  of  different  emotions,  while  they 
vary  too  much  in  different  instances  of  the  same  emotion.  The  ob- 
jection on  this  score  was  formerly  made  on  the  ground  of  empirical 
observation.  Now,  we  can  not  only  urge  that  the  fact  is  so,  but 
give  a  reason  why,  in  the  nature  of  things,  it  should  be  as  it  is.  The 
escape  of  deflected  energy  is  the  cause  of  the  internal  effects,  and 
these  form  the  greater  part  of  the  whole  mass  of  bodily  change. 
Since  the  process  is  under  mechanical  law,  the  effects  vary  with  the 
state  of  the  organism  ;  and  this  accounts  for  the  fact  that  the  same 

1  The  principle  must  be  worked  out  more  fully,  however,  and  freed  from  irrelevant 
additions.  In  all  probability,  too,  it  will  be  found  necessary  to  supplement  it  to  some 
extent  by  others. 

DISC  U  SSI  ON.  283 

emotion  may  at  different  times  have  different  physical  accompani- 
ments. Further,  under  any  outward  circumstances  a  given  amount 
of  energy  will  always  produce  the  same  results  if  the  inward  phys- 
ical conditions  remain  unaltered  ;  and  this  explains  why,  in  all  states 
of  equal  intensity,  the  organic  changes  are  substantially  the  same. 

On  the  other  hand,  it  seems  possible  for  opponents  of  the  effect- 
theory  to  state  their  views,  so  as  to  include  and  harmonize  all  the 
facts.  You  cannot  proceed  on  the  assumption  that  emotion  must 
be  either  the  cause  or  the  effect  of  the  physical  changes.  In  the  first 
place,  the  term  'physical  change'  is  wide  and  vague.  It  covers  move- 
ments, purposively  reflex,  voluntary,  and  mechanically  determined.  In 
the  second  place,  the  antithesis  is  false,  for  there  is  a  third  possibility, 
namely,  that  the  psychical  and  physical  aspects  are  independent  of 
each  other  and  yet  concomitant.  It  is  possible  to  hold,  therefore, 
that  some  of  the  bodily  changes  are  effects  of  the  emotion,  that 
others  are  independent  of  it,  and  that  the  emotion  is  in  turn  inde- 
pendent of  the  latter.  When  danger  threatens,  for  example,  it  is 
possible  to  imagine  that  the  perception  is  followed  at  once  by  fear 
and  an  arousal  of  energy,  while  certain  actions  or  tendencies  to 
action  are  called  forth  by  association.  All  these  arise  simulta- 
neously. We  have  at  once  the  emotion  of  fear,  the  excitation  of 
energy,  and  the  tendency  to  crouch  or  run  away.  In  the  case  of  the 
first  emotion  of  the  kind,  the  third  effect  would  not  be  present  as  a 
direct  consequence  of  the  cognition.  The  psychical  state  is  a  feel- 
ing with  reference  to  the  impending  event  prompting  us  to  action  of 
a  certain  kind  with  regard  to  it.  The  energy  excited  renders  it 
possible  for  this  action  to  be  carried  out  with  speed  and  vigor.  If 
flight  is  out  of  the  question,  the  energy  diffuses  itself  through  the 
organism  and  produces  the  violent  organic  paroxysm  of  intense  ter- 
ror. If  the  danger  can  be  avoided  and  the  means  are  suggested, 
the  energy  is  used  up  for  the  most  part  in  carrying  out  the  neces- 
sary movements.  Still  a  certain  quantity  always  discharges  itself 
through  the  body,  for  more  energy  is  aroused  than  is  absolutely 
necessary,  and  in  most  instances  an  interval  must  elapse  before 
means  can  be  found  and  the  action  put  in  train.  Even  though  the 
purposive  action  is  not  inhibited,  therefore,  a  certain  degree  of 
physical  agitation  is  always  present.  I  have  purposely  taken  one  of 
the  cases  which  is  most  favorable  to  the  effect-theory.  The  organic 
perturbation  is  not  nearly  so  marked  when,  as  in  hate  for  instance, 
immediate  and  decisive  action  is  not  so  vitally  essential.  The  emo- 
tion may  be  as  strong,  however,  for  the  physical  changes  vary  in 
strength  and  prominence,  not  with  the  psychical  concomitant,  but 

284  D- 

with  the  practical  demands  of  the  situation.  Further,  it  is  only  in 
an  instance,  as  simple  as  the  one  I  have  chosen,  that  it  can  be  main- 
tained with  any  show  of  plausibility  that  reflex  action  accounts  for 
all  the  movements  involved.  In  more  complicated  cases  more  com- 
plicated actions  are  necessary,  and  it  is  not  so  easy  to  exclude  from 
consideration  the  influence  of  the  purely  psychical  aspect  of  the  con- 
crete emotional  state. 

I  can  only  refer  to  Professor  Baldwin's  interesting  paper  in  so  far 
as  it  bears  on  the  special  point  now  under  discussion.  This  writer 
argues  that  "though  habit  means  subsiding  consciousness,  it  is  just 
those  '  expressive '  reactions  which  are  most  instinctive,  that  carry 
with  them  most  of  the  vivid  and  disturbed  consciousness  we  call 
emotion"  (Psv.  REV.,  I,  6,  612).  Hence  he  concludes  that  the 
consciousness  in  question  cannot  arise  until  the  instinctive  reactions 
are  reported  back  from  the  periphery.  This  view  is  open  to  criti- 
cism on  many  points,  but  I  merely  wish  to  point  out  that,  thanks 
to  Professor  Dewey,  it  can  be  attacked  on  a  question  of  fact.  The 
argument  depends  on  the  assumption  that  all  *  expressive  reactions ' 
are  instinctive.  Some  are  undoubtedly,  but  the  greater  number  of 
them  are  caused  by  the  deflection  of  energy  or  the  spreading  of 
excess  energy  through  the  body.  They  are  not  instinctive  at  all, 
but  simply  '  mechanical  outpouring  through  the  easiest  drainage 

We  find,  therefore,  that  nothing  has  been  adduced  on  the  basis 
of  which  it  can  be  denied  that  emotion  has  a  function  of  some  kind, 
and  causes  some  of  the  bodily  movements  which  enter  into  the  com- 
plete emotional  state.  The  voluntary  actions  which  seem  to  follow 
naturally  from  the  peculiar  psychical  attitude  are  either  left  out  of 
account  altogether,  or  confounded  with  the  instinctive  reactions, 
which  are  themselves  simply  taken  for  granted.  The  explanation  of 
the  internal  organic  disturbance  is  in  principle  sound.  It  involves 
consequences,  however,  which  are  fatal  to  the  effect-theory,  and 
incidentally  it  destroys  the  special  argument  on  the  strength  of 
which  Professor  Baldwin  is  induced  to  give  a  qualified  assent  to  Pro- 
fessor James'  main  contention.  On  the  other  hand,  opponents  can 
accept  it  gratefully,  and  take  account  of  it  in  framing  their  own 
theories.  DAVID  IRONS. 




If  it  is  not  contrary  to  editorial  rules,  I  hope  I  may  be  allowed  to 
protest  against  the  unfair  and  dogmatic  verdict  which  Professor  G. 
S.  Fullerton  passes  on  the  concluding  section  of  my  Aristotelian 
Address,  'The  Conception  of  Infinity,'  reviewed  by  him  in  the  Janu- 
ary number  of  this  journal  (Vol.  II,  Part  I,  p.  99),  inasmuch  as  it  is 
founded  on  a  confusion  of  ideas  which  he  attributes  to  me,  though  it 
is  really  due  only  to  himself.  The  first  part  of  his  article  is  appre- 
ciative and  generous,  and  for  that  I  thank  him.  But  when  he  comes 
to  the  sixth  and  last  section  of  my  address,  which  he  calls  my  con- 
clusion, he  says  that  I  reach  it  only  by  'blowing  both  hot  and  cold 
in  my  premises,'  which,  supported  as  it  is  by  a  page  of  very  plausible 
(though  of  course  unintentional)  misstatements,  is  an  intolerable 

In  three  several  cases  on  that  page  (99)  he  confuses  distinctions 
which  I  clearly  make  and  adhere  to.  He  confuses  : 

ist — Between  my  'material  world'  and  my  'universe.' 

2nd — Between  my  'material  element  in  consciousness'  and  my 
'matter'  or  'material  world.' 

3rd — Between  my  'perceptually  known'  and  my  'positively 

Now,  in  my  argument,  time  and  space  are  never  perceived  or 
represented  in  thought  without  some  kind  of  'material  element  in 
consciousness,'  and  in  this  sense  the  'material  element'  shares  their 
infinity  ;  the  'formal'  and  'material'  elements  together  being  indis- 
pensable constituents  of  anything  thought  of  as  existing  (even  when 
it  is  a  void  that  is  thought  of),  and  therefore  of  the  infinite  universe. 

An  infinite  void  when  thought  of  as  existing,  either  in  time  or 
space,  is  a  void  only  in  the  sense  of  being  empty  of  physical  matter, 
and  I  have  given  some  reasons  in  my  address  for  thinking  that  the 
world  of  physical  matter  is  finite,  being  bounded  by  a  void  in  this 
sense,  both  in  time  and  space. 

When  we  know  any  specific  content  (under  which  term  physical 
matter  is  included)  existing  in  time,  or  in  time  and  space  together, 
that  is  what  I  call  having  a  'positive  knowledge'  of  it.  But  though 
we  have  no  such  positive  knowledge  of  anything  beyond  the  limits 
of  the  world  of  physical  matter,  we  may  yet  have  a  'perceptual 
knowledge'  of  time  and  space  beyond  them,  namely,  a  representa- 
tion of  them  as  filled  with  some  '  material  element  in  consciousness; ' 
this  element  being  an  indispensable  condition  of  them  as  existing, 
although  it  is  not  specifically  known  to  us. 



The  inseparability  of  'formal'  from  the  'material'  element  in 
consciousness  compels  us  to  think  of  the  universe  as  infinite,  so  soon 
as  we  recognize  that  one  of  these  elements  is  infinite,  and  cannot  be 
thought  of  as  being  otherwise  ;  unless  we  assume  dogmatically  that 
only  that  really  exists  which  man  has  specific  sense-faculties  to  per- 
ceive. It  is  this  dogmatic  assumption  which  really  '  shuts  us  up  to 
the  world  of  matter.' 

This  argument  of  mine  may  or  may  not  commend  itself  as  con- 
clusive ;  but  at  least  it  cannot  be  charged  with  attaching  varying 
and  inconsistent  meanings  to  the  premises  employed,  which  is  the 
charge  made  in  the  words  I  have  quoted  from  Professor  Fullerton, 
and  made  in  the  most  peremptory  fashion.1 



Dr.  Herbert  Nichols,  formerly  assistant  of  the  Harvard  Psycho- 
'  logical  Laboratory,  publishes  in  the  last  number  of  the  Philosophical 
Review  a  most  violent  attack  on  that  laboratory  under  the  title 
'The  Motor  Power  of  Ideas.'  His  scientific  motives,  to  which  I 
must  confine  myself  here,  are  based  on  such  an  absolute  misunder- 
standing of  our  paper  and  his  discussion  is  so  full  of  misstatements 
that  I  consider  it  useless  and  hopeless  to  attempt  to  correct  his  mis- 
takes and  discuss  his  arguments.  But  there  is  one  point  which 
troubles  me.  The  paper  which  he  refers  to  is  published  by  Mr. 
Campbell  and  myself.  Those  who  read  the  kind  words  with  which 
Dr.  Nichols  praised  my  work  a  short  time  ago  may  not  believe  that 
he  can  change  his  mind  so  suddenly,  and  some  may  suppose  perha] 
that  the  attack  is  directed  especially  against  Mr.  Campbell.  Under 
these  circumstances  I  take  it  as  my  duty  to  free  my  young  friend, 
Mr.  Campbell,  publicly  from  all  responsibility.  Mr.  Campbel 
carried  out  the  experiments  most  carefully,  but  the  whole  plan  ol 
work  was  laid  out  by  me,  and  I  myself  wrote  every  line  of  th< 
article.  It  is  probably  superfluous  to  add  that  I  should  have  writtei 
every  line  just  as  it  now  stands  even  if  I  had  known  Dr.  Nichols' 
called  criticism  beforehand.  HUGO  MUNSTERBERG. 


1  [A  faither  comment  from   Prof.  Fullerton  on  Mr.  Hodgson's  positions  wi 
appear  in  the  next  number.— Eds.] 



DJge'nere's   et  Desequibre's.      J.    DALLEMAGNE.      Brussels,    Lamertin ; 
Paris,  Alcan  ;   1895.     Large  8vo.,  pp.  658. 

Dr.  Dallemagne  writes  a  very  fluent  colloquial  style,  well  suited 
to  the  lecture-room,  for  which  his  book  was  originally  written,  and 
for  this  reason  his  pages,  though  immense,  can  be  read  quickly. 
The  work  is  so  full  of  details  that  our  notice  can  hardly  do  more  than 
recommend  it  to  any  reader  who  may  be  in  search  of  a  vue  d*  ensemble 
of  the  psychopathic  constitution,  and  who  at  the  same  time  has  a  good 
stomach  for  the  great  richness  of  the  subject,  and  for  the  paren- 
thetical sallys  and  sidepockets  of  reflection  and  description  into 
which  our  author  will  drag  him  remorselessly.  M.  Dallemagne's 
reading  has  been  enormous,  and,  so  far  as  appears,  exact ;  and  it 
has  in  no  way  stifled  his  independence  of  judgment.  His  concep- 
tion of  the  sphere  of  '  loss  of  balance '  in  the  mental  system  is  wider 
than  that  of  Magnan,  embracing  Neurasthenia,  Hysteria,  and  Epi- 
lepsy, of  all  which  conditions  the  accounts  he  gives  are  both  full  of 
matter  and  up  to  date.  Epilepsy,  indeed,  is  the  first  subject  treated 
after  Imbecility,  which  latter  follows  six  preliminary  chapters  on  the 
psychological  mechanism  and  on  the  notion  and  significance  of  the 
•*  degenerative '  type.  The  author  allows  that  the  conception  of 
degeneration  is  still  in  process  of  evolution  towards  exactitude.  It 
must  indeed  be  admitted  that  causal  and  symptomatic  notions  min- 
gle in  it  ;  heredity  is  an  added  element  which  is  neither  cause  nor 
symptom  ;  and  a  placid  myxoedematous  cre'tin  has  superficially  noth- 
ing in  common  with  a  one-idea'd  fanatic  or  other  member  of  Mag- 
nan's  class  of  degendrts  sujxfrteurs,  except  that  both  are  *  queer.'  M. 
Dallemagne  has  wrestled  copiously  with  the  problem,  and  perhaps 
better  than  anyone  has  emphasized  the  notion  of  balance  as  the  test 
of  mental  health.  Dissociation  of  the  mental  system,  impulses  so 
strong  that  they  bear  all  inner  opposition  down,  aversions  and  appe- 
tites at  variance  with  the  subject's  beliefs,  abrupt  explosions  inter- 
ruptive  of  the  consistency  of  his  life,  such  are  the  traits  of  whole 
groups  of  psychopathic  persons.  M.  Dallemagne  even  tentatively 
suggests  a  theory  for  such  disequilibration.  I  find  it  very  obscure, 



but  it  suggests  to  my  mind  something  like  this :  The  thalami  and 
corpora  striata  are  'subconscious*  centres  for  habits,  cravings  and  im- 
pulses that  are  not  so  *  saturated '  with  experience  as  to  have  become 
fatally  automatic,  like  those  in  the  cord.  They  normally  act  in  coop- 
eration with  the  fully  conscious  cortex  and  its  associations  of  ideas. 
But  they  may  become  the  seat  of  irritable  weakness,  and  the  asso- 
ciative cortical  processes  may  be  pathologically  blocked  or  twisted 
from  what  is  normal.  In  such  cases  the  poussfo  from  below  is  either 
excessive  or  ill-timed,  and  it  may  also  fall  on  wrong  ideas  and  the 
normally  controlling  ones  be  thrown  out  of  gear.  All  sorts  of  obses- 
sions, phobias,  depravities  of  appetite,  morbid  impulses  characteris- 
tic of  the  discordant  self,  which  we  find  in  the  so-called  degenerates,, 
maybe  thus  explained.  In  the  'inferior'  class  the  cortex  is  most  at 
fault ;  in  the  '  superiors '  it  is  the  basal  ganglia. 

Entartung  und  Genie,  Neue  Studien.  CESARE  LOMBROSO,  gesammelt 
und  unter  Mitwirkung  des  Verfassers  deutsch  herausgegeben 
von  Hans  Kurella.  Leipzig,  Wigand,  1894.  12°,  pp.  308. 

A  collection  of  essays  and  fragments,  not  published  as  a  volume 
in  Italian.  The  author  first  replies  to  some  objections  to  his  theory 
that  genius  is  a  degenerative  neurosis  allied  to  epilepsy  and  moral 
insanity.  Dante,  Michelangelo,  and  Guido  had  been  thrown  at 
him  as  examples  of  men  of  genius  who  were  normal.  He  proves 
minutely  their  strongly  eccentric  and  neurotic  constitution.  Dante 
in  particular  must  have  been  frankly  epileptic,  for  no  less  than- 
eleven  times  in  the  divine  comedy  he  speaks  of  himself  as  swooning 
or  falling  unconscious.  That  the  weakness  of  genius  cannot  be  due 
to  secondary  strains  and  fatigues  incidental  to  the  ardent  sort  of  life 
which  the  possession  of  genius  imposes,  is  proved  by  the  fact  that 
out  of  313  symptoms  of  fatigue  which  Lombroso  has  counted,  only 
six  are  commonly  found  among  geniuses.  Genius  and  sex  is  dis- 
cussed in  a  chapter,  full  of  anecdotes,  on  the  conditions  productive 
of  genius.  In  Chapter  III.  is  shown  the  frequency  of  degenerative 
anomalies  in  geniuses.  For  example,  they  vary  from  their  national 
type,  as  is  proved  by  portraits.  Longfellow,  Bellamy,  Tennyson, 
Coleridge  look  like  men  of  Latin  race.  Darwin  and  Bryant,  Cole- 
ridge and  Burns,  George  Eliot  and  Bulwer  form  mutually  resem- 
bling pairs.  "The  cause  of  these  resemblances  is  to  be  sought  in 
the  degeneration  common  to  them  all."  Prof.  Lombroso  has  com- 
pared the  field  of  view  of  twelve  geniuses  of  his  acquaintance  with 
that  of  eight  unusually  gifted  young  men  who  were  not  geniuses,, 
and  has  found  a  shrinkage  of  the  inner  upper  quadrant  in  nine  of 


the  geniuses — in  none  of  them  was  the  field  symmetrical.  The  non- 
geniuses  were  much  more  normal  ;  so  that  an  abnormal  field  of 
view  seems  to  characterize  genius.  On  the  other  hand,  genius 
would  seem  to  have,  if  anything,  a  slower  reaction-time  than  usual. 
Amongst  the  bizarreries  of  genius,  playing  with  orthography  is  men- 
tioned, and  a  dog-latin  letter  of  Swift  to  Stella  is  quoted.  "One  is 
tempted,"  Lombroso  remarks,  "to  find  in  this  tendency  to  fabricate 
a  jargon,  a  trait  connecting  genius  with  criminality."  The  most 
valuable  part  of  the  book  is  constituted  by  biographical  details  con- 
cerning certain  '  borderland '  cases,  calculating  geniuses,  thought 
readers,  artists,  and  political  and  religious  'mattoids.'  The  author's 
curiosity  and  information,  frankness,  good-humor  and  vivacity  are 
beyond  praise,  but  his  incapacity  for  accurate  reasoning  is  appa- 
rently incurable  ;  and  this  book,  were  it  not  for  the  biographic  mate- 
rial which  it  contains,  could  only  be  regarded  as  one  of  the  oddities 
of  scientific  literature. 

Degeneration.  MAX  NORDAU.  Translated  from  the  second  edition 
of  the  German  work.  New  York,  Appleton,  1895.  8vo.,  pp.  560. 
A  pathological  book  on  a  pathological  subject.  If  one  were  to 
apply  Herr  Nordau's  method  to  the  description  of  his  own  person, 
one  could  hardly  help  writing  him  down  as  a  degenerate  of  the 
worst  sort.  He  is  a  '  graphomaniac';  a  misanthrope  and  a  '  miso- 
neist';  a  'coprolalic*  ('idiot,'  'imbecile'  are  his  mildest  terms  of 
endearment)  ;  an  « erotomaniac '  of  the  prudish  -  sort,  haunted  by 
horror  of  other  people's  sexuality;  an  obse'de',  pursued  without  respite 
by  images  of  odious  works  of  art ;  a  '  megalomaniac '  of  the  arro- 
gant and  insulting  type  ;  and,  finally,  a  victim  of  insane  delusions 
about  a  conspiracy  of  hysterics  and  degenerates  menacing  the  moral 
world  with  destruction  unless  the  sound-minded  speedily  arm  and 
organize  in  its  defence.  Add  to  this  equipment  the  earnestness  of 
the  gloomily  insane,  and  their  complete  inability  to  see  a  joke  (pages 
of  heavy  invective  against  Oscar  Wilde's  epigrams!)  and  one  gets  a 
not  altogether  consoling  diagnosis  of  Herr  Nordau's  case.  On  the 
other  side,  it  must  be  admitted  that  he  is  really  learned,  not  only  in 
contemporary  German,  French  and  English  belles  lettres,  but  in  the 
literature  of  neurological  medicine  as  well,  and  that  many  of  the 
objects  by  whose  odiousness  his  imagination  is  afflicted,  Parisian 
'pornographic'  novels,  for  example,  are  loathsome  indeed.  When, 
however,  hardly  a  contemporary  name,  however  great,  escapes  his 
abuse,  and  the  course  over  which  he  runs-a-muck  lies  through  Wag- 
ner, Tolstoi,  Ruskin,  Burne-Jones,  Rossetti,  Zola,  Ibsen,  and  Niet- 


sche,  as  well  as  through  Baudelaire  and  his  descendants,  it  must  be 
admitted  that  his  volumes  are  little  more  than  a  pathological  'docu- 
ment' on  an  enormous  scale,  and  an  exhibition  in  minute  detail  of  an 
individual's  temperamental  restrictions  in  the  way  of  enjoying  art. 

The  only  chapters  that  concern  this  REVIEW  are  those  entitled 
*  the  psychology  of  mysticism '  and  l  the  psychology  of  egotism  ' 
respectively.  Mysticism  and  egotism  are  the  great  mental  stigmata 
of  hereditary  degeneration.  Mysticism  is,  in  brief,  the  tendency  to 
see  in  everything  more  than  appears  on  the  surface,  and  to  suppose 
mysterious  significance  in  the  plainest  facts.  Its  condition,  our 
author  says,  is  an  inability  of  voluntary  attention  to  confine  the  flow 
of  association.  In  the  exhausted  and  aimless  brain  of  a  degenerate, 
beyond  the  clear  and  immediate  associates  of  an  idea,  there  surges 
up  circle  beyond  circle  of  remote  associates,  pale  and  vague  rever- 
berations of  distant  ideas,  which  make  all  perceptions  spectral  and 
all  judgments  uncertain.  This  is  much  like  saying  that  in  a  healthy 
mind  thoughts  should  have  no  atmosphere,  no  overtones,  no  fringes 
— an  opinion  to  which  few  will  subscribe. — Herr  Nordau's  explana- 
tion of  the  egotism  of  degenerates  is  based  on  the  observations  of 
Sollier  and  others  upon  imbeciles,  and  of  Lombroso  upon  criminals, 
showing  obtuse  sensibility  of  the  skin  and  other  perceptive  organs. 
Whilst  the  outer  world  thus  comes  to  them  and  their  congeners  im- 
perfectly, the  inner  world,  on  the  contrary,  fills  them  with  its  clam- 
orous impulses  and  obsessions  ;  their  enfeebled  will  cannot  hold 
the  balance,  the  line  (arbitrary  at  best)  between  the  me  and  the 
not-me  is  shifted,  and  the  me  fills  the  field  of  attention.  This 
theory,  also,  though  it  has  its  ingenuity,  is  one  which  psychologists 
will  hardly  find  completely  satisfactory. 

The  translation,  so  far  as  I  have  examined  it,  reads  fairly  well. 
But  the  publishers  have  made  560  very  vast  and  ugly  pages  out  of 
the  1000  odd  convenient  pages  of  the  two-volume  original. 

Genie  und  Entartung,   cine  psychologische  Studie.      WILLIAM  HIRSCH. 
Leipzig  ;  Coblentz,  1894.     8°,  pp.  340. 

It  really  reanimates  one,  after  so  much  farce-comedy  writing  on 
the  subject  of  genius,  to  come  upon  a  book  based  on  psychological 
analysis,  logic,  and  common-sense.  It  would  be  well  if  all  the  ad- 
mirers of  Lombroso,  Nisbet,  and  Nordau  could  be  compelled  to  read 
Dr.  Hirsch's  admirable  study,  of  which  every  page  is  interesting 
and  acute.  I  can  only  quote  general  principles  from  it,  leaving  out 
details.  In  the  first  place,  the  author  remarks,  '  genius '  is  a  socio- 
logical, not  a  psychological  concept.  The  class  of  persons  popu- 


larly  recognized  as  geniuses — poets,  musical  composers,  musical 
executants,  actors,  painters,  men  of  science,  statesmen,  soldiers, 
and  devotees — seem  at  first  sight  to  have  nothing  in  common  except 
rarity  and  originality.  But  originality  itself  is  not  a  psychological 
conception.  An  Englishman  appears  in  France  as  '  an  original'; 
and  so  does  a  Yankee  in  England.  The  oddity  of  lunatics,  due  to 
recklessness  and  non-inhibition,  has  nothing  inwardly  in  common 
with  the  fertility  in  novel  ideas  that  characterizes  geniuses.  "In 
different  fields  [as  the  author  shows  by  detailed  discussion]  we  see 
that  the  most  diverse  psychological  elements  constitute  the  man's 
genius,  and  that  qualities  which  in  one  case  make  its  essence,  are  in 
others  actually  incompatible  with  its  activity.  There  are,  therefore, 
no  definite  psychological  qualities  common  to  all  geniuses.  One 
would  seek  in  vain  identical  features  in  Bismarck  and  Paganini,  in 
Mozart  and  Napoleon."  Even  within  one  type  there  are  tremen- 
dous differences,  Goethe  and  Beethoven,  for  instance,  having  been 
men  of  mood  and  inspiration  ;  Schiller  and  Mozart,  men  of  continu- 
ous activity  independent  of  mood,  working  with  will  and  critical 
reflection.  The  mental  elements  are  identical  in  the  sane  and  the 
insane,  the  difference  between  these  classes  of  men  being  one  of  pro- 
portion and  mixture.  With  strong  obsessions  one  needs  a  strong  will 
to  keep  sound,  just  as  with  a  large  body  one  needs  large  legs  to 
keep  active.  The  excessive  sensibility  of  a  Goethe  would  have 
made  a  psychopath  of  him,  but  for  his  extraordinary  intellect  and 
self-control — with  these  additions  it  simply  made  him  the  mightier 
pattern  of  mankind.  The  logic  which,  because  it  finds  hallucinations 
in  crazy  people,  treats  them  thenceforward  as  an  insane  symptom, 
even  where  no  other  insane  symptom  is  present,  begs  the  question. 
Their  existence  in  sane  men  should  on  the  contrary  be  held  to 
prove  that  they  are  not  necessarily  a  morbid  symptom.  The  'sim- 
ple enumeration '  of  geniuses  with  psychopathic  traits,  to  prove  the 
essential  psychopathy  of  all  genius  [apart  from  the  fact  that  by  the 
same  logic  one  could  prove  that  being  born  on  a  Sunday,  or  having 
brown  eyes,  was  genius's  essential  condition],  is  carried  out  with  no 
pretence  to  exactitude.  Rightly  used,  the  statistical  argument 
ought  to  ascertain,  first,  the  percentage  of  the  mentally  unsound  in 
a  given  population  at  a  given  moment,  then  the  total  number  of 
geniuses,  and  finally  the  number  of  mentally  diseased  geniuses,  in 
the  same  population  at  the  same  moment.  If  the  percentage  of  dis- 
ease were  higher  in  the  geniuses  than  in  the  population,  the  neurosis 
theory  of  genius  would  receive  presumptive  support.  It  is  needless 
to  say  that  such  statistics  are  unattainable,  nor  are  they  attempted 


by  any  of  the  advocates  of  the  neurosis  theory.1  The  close  of  Dr. 
Hirsch's  book  has  much  to  say  in  re  Nordau  versus  Wagner  and 
Ibsen.  This  critical  matter  calls  for  no  reproduction  here. 

If  the  reviewer  might  now  say  a  word  of  the  result  left  on  his 
own  mind  by  reading  the  genius-controversy,  it  would  run  something 
like  this  :  Moreau,  Lombroso  &  Co.  have  done  excellent  service  in 
destroying  the  classic  view  of  genius  as  something  superhuman  and 
flawless.  By  their  ferreting  and  prying  and  general  devil's  advo- 
cacy, they  have  helped  us  to  an  acquaintance  with  human  nature  in 
concrete,  which  from  every  point  of  view  is  superior  to  our  old-fash- 
ioned academic  notions.  Lombroso  in  particular  has  put  us  in  his  debt 
by  his  studies  of  individual  fanatics  and  '  mattoids.'  But  there  the 
service  stops,  for  (except  in  Nordau's  case)  these  authors  are  incapable 
of  logical  or  psychological  analysis  ;  and  the  only  conclusion  that 
their  facts  make  more  clear  than  ever — the  conclusion,  namely,  that 
there  are  no  incompatibles  in  human  nature,  and  that  any  random 
combination  of  mental  elements  that  can  be  conceived  may  also  be 
realized  in  some  individual — is  one  that  they  do  not  draw.  If  we 
are  to  make  of  genius  a  psychological  conception  at  all,  it  must  be 
a  property  of  intellect  rather  than  of  will  or  feeling.  Narrowed  in 
this  way,  Prof.  Bain's  description  of  it,  as  an  unusual  tendency  to 
associate  by  similarity  (a  description  with  which  none  of  our  authors 
seem  acquainted),  will  stand  firm.  But  it  is  one  thing  to  have  this 
intellectual  condition  of  genius  and  another  to  become  effective  in 

1  The  only  attempt  to  use  statistics  methodically  by  advocates  of  the  theory  is  in 
Nisbet's  comparison  of  the  causes  of  death  in  genius  and  in  the  population  at  large 
(see  "The  Insanity  of  Genius,"  1893,  p.  315).  This  author  says:  "I  have  dealt 
specifically  with  some  250  men  of  genius.  Selected  upon  no  other  ground  than  their 
eminence,  in  the  first  instance,  the  total  number  of  these  are  found  to  be  neuropathic, 
suffering  from  or  dying  of  some  description  of  nerve  disorder."  Mr.  Nisbet  then  enu- 
merates amongst  the  "  chief  constitutional  or  nerve  diseases  ":  Phthisis,  pneumonia, 
apoplexy,  heart  disease,  scrofula,  rheumatism,  syncope,  diabetes,  gout  and  stone,  and 
then  tells  us  that  the  death-rate  of  the  'nerve  diseases,'  thus  Pickwickianly  under- 
stood, to  the  entire  death-rate  of  Great  Britain  in  1888,  was  as  i  to  3},  whilst  "  among 
the  men  of  genius  enumerated  it  is  at  least  three  times  greater."  Ignoring  the  ridicu- 
lousness of  Mr.  N.'s  classification  of  nerve  diseases,  and  assuming  that  all  the  250 
geniuses  really  did  die  of  them,  not  the  total  population,  but  some  part  of  the  population 
whose  pursuits  are  intellectual,  was  the  proper  term  of  comparison.  If  Mr.  Nisbet 
had  looked  up  the  personal  and  family  history  of  250  occupants  of  offices  in  the  city, 
or  of  250  active  business  men,  and  found  less  gout  and  apoplexy  than  in  his  geniuses, 
it  would  have  been  a  really  interesting  fact,  for  these  are  diseases  of  sedentary  life  as 
such,  and  geniuses  are  on  the  whole  of  the  sedentary  class.  Similarly  before  the 
'  family  history '  of  geniuses  can  be  held  to  prove  the  neurosis  theory,  a  comparison 
must  be  made  with  the  families  of  an  equal  number  of  business  men,  '  selected  upon  no 
other  ground '  say  than  their  wealth.  No  such  comparison  has  ever  been  attempted. 


history  as  a  genius,  and  to  figure  in  biographical  dictionaries.  We 
all  know  intellects  of  first-rate  original  quality  whose  names  are 
written  in  water  because  of  the  inferiority  of  the  other  elements  of 
their  nature,  their  lack  of  remote  ideals  and  unifying  aims,  of  pas- 
sion and  of  staying  power.  On  the  other  hand  we  know  moderate 
intellects  who  become  effective  and  even  famous  in  the  world's  work 
because  of  their  force  of  character,  their  passionate  interests  and 
doggedness  of  will.  To  do  anything  with  one's  genius  requires  pas- 
sion ;  to  do  much  requires  doggedness.  Hence  it  comes  that  the 
intense  sensibility  of  the  psychopathic  temperament,  when  it  adds 
itself  to  a  first-rate  intellect,  greatly  increases  the  chances  that  the 
latter  will  bear  effective  fruits.  To  be  liable  to  obsession  by  ideas, 
not  to  be  able  to  rest  till  they  are  'worked  off,'  ought  then  to  be,  as 
they  indeed  are,  traits  of  character  often  found  amongst  the  men 
whose  names  figure  as  those  of  geniuses  in  the  cyclopedias.  But 
these  traits  have  no  essential  connection  with  the  sort  of  intellect 
that  makes  the  men  geniuses.  We  may  find  them  combined  with  any 
sort  of  intellect,  as  we  find  first-rate  intellect  combined  with  any  sort 
of  character.  The  names  of  Emerson,  Longfellow,  Lowell,  Whit- 
tier,  and  Holmes  would  probably  be  those  first  written  by  any  one 
who  should  be  asked  for  a  list  of  the  geniuses  of  the  community  in 
which  I  write.  Although  belonging  to  the  class  of  poets  (the  species 
of  genius  most  akin  to  psychopathy  by  the  sensibility  it  demands), 
these  men  were  all  distinguished  for  balance  of  character  and  com- 
mon sense.  So  Schiller,  so  Browning,  so  George  Sand.  In  poets 
like  Shelley,  Poe,  de  Musset,  on  the  other  hand,  we  have  the  intel- 
lectual and  passionate  gifts  without  the  powers  of  inhibition.  In 
the  sphere  of  action  we  have  a  similar  diversity  of  mixture:  we 
find  the  all-round  men  like  Washington,  Cavour,  and  Gladstone  ; 
the  great  intellects  and  wills  with  no  hearts,  like  Frederic  the 
Great ;  the  intense  hearts  and  wills  with  narrow  intellects,  like 
Garibaldi  and  John  Brown ;  the  stubborn  wills  with  mediocre 
hearts  and  intellects,  like  George  III.  or  Philip  II. ;  and,  finally, 
the  real  cranks  and  half-insane  fanatics,  often  with  much  of  the 
equipment  of  effective  genius  except  a  normal  set  of  'ideas.'  It 
all  depends  on  the  mixture  ;  only  as  the  elements  vary  independ- 
ently, the  chances  that  a  freak  of  nature  in  the  line  of  human  great- 
ness will  be  as  exceptionally  strong  in  all  three  elements  of  character 
as  he  is  in  any  one  of  them,  is  small.  Hence  some  lop-sidedness  in 
almost  all  distinguished  personages,  hence  the  rarity  of  the  Dantes, 
St.  Bernards,  and  Goethes  among  the  children  of  men. 


One  more  word  :  there  is  a  strong  tendency  among  these  pathol- 
ogical writers  to  represent  the  line  of  mental  health  as  a  very  narrow 
crack,  which  one  must  tread  with  bated  breath,  between  foul  fiends 
on  the  one  side  and  gulfs  of  despond  on  the  other.  Now,  health  is 
a  term  of  subjective  appreciation,  not  of  objective  description,  to 
borrow  a  nomenclature  from  Prof.  Royce  :  it  is  a  teleological  term. 
There  is  no  purely  objective  standard  of  sound  health.  Any  pecu- 
liarity that  is  of  use  to  a  man  is  a  point  of  soundness  in  him,  and  what 
makes  a  man  sound  for  one  function  may  make  him  unsound  for 
another.  Moreover,  we  are  all  instruments  for  social  use  ;  and  if 
sensibilities,  obsessions  and  other  psychopathic  peculiarities  can  so 
combine  with  the  rest  of  our  constitution  as  to  make  us  the  more 
useful  to  our  kind,  why  then  we  should  not  call  them  in  that  context 
points  of  unhealthiness,  but  rather  the  reverse. 

The  trouble  is  that  such  writers  as  Nordau  use  the  descriptive 
names  of  symptoms  merely  as  an  artifice  for  giving  objective  author- 
ity to  their  personal  dislikes.  The  medical  terms  become  mere 
'  appreciative '  clubs  to  knock  men  down  with.  Call  a  man  a  '  cad  ' 
and  you've  settled  his  social  status.  Call  him  a  'degenerate,'  and 
you've  grouped  him  with  the  most  loathsome  specimens  of  the  race, 
in  spite  of  the  fact  that  he  may  be  one  of  its  most  precious  members. 
The  only  sort  of  being,  in  fact,  who  can  remain  as  the  typical  normal 
man,  after  all  the  individuals  with  degenerative  symptoms  have  been 
rejected,  must  be  a  perfect  nullity.  He  must,  it  is  true,  be  able  to 
perform  the  necessities  of  nature  and  adapt  himself  to  his  environ- 
ment so  as  to  come  in  when  it  rains  ;  but  being  free  from  all  the 
excesses  and  superfluities  that  make  Man's  life  interesting,  without 
love,  poetry,  art,  religion,  or  any  other  ideal  than  pride  in  his  non- 
neurotic  constitution,  he  is  the  human  counterpart  of  that  'temper- 
ance '  hotel  of  which  the  traveler's  handbook  said  :  "It  possesses  no 
other  quality  to  recommend  it."  We  all  remember  the  sort  of 
school-boy  who  used  to  ask  us  six  times  a  day  to  feel  of  his  biceps. 
The  sort  of  man  who  pounds  his  mental  chest  and  says  to  us:  "See, 
there  isn't  a  morbid  fibre  in  my  composition  ! "  is  like  unto  him. 
Few  more  profitless  members  of  the  race  can  be  found.  The  real 
lesson  of  the  genius-books  is  that  we  should  welcome  sensibilities, 
impulses  and  obsessions  if  we  have  them,  so  long  as  by  their  means 
the  field  of  our  experience  grows  deeper  and  we  contribute  the  better 
to  the  race's  stores;  that  we  should  broaden  our  notion  of  health 
instead  of  narrowing  it;  that  we  should  regard  no  single  element  of 
weakness  as  fatal — in  short  that  we  should  not  be  afraid  of  life. 

W.  J. 



Thtorie  de  rondulation  universelle ;  essais  sur  Involution.     B.  CONTA. 

Paris,  Alcan,  1895.      Pp.  216. 

Perhaps  the  thing  of  greatest  interest  in  this  volume  of  meta- 
physics is  the  biography  of  the  author.  Conta,  born  in  Maldavin, 
of  illiterate  parents,  by  turns  conjuror  and  student,  constantly 
changing  his  profession  to  make  his  living,  but  always  pursued  by 
the  same  sensations  of  hunger  and  phthisis,  ended  by  becoming 
professor  of  law,  and  died  Minister  of  Education  of  his  country. 
Such  a  life  proves  that  he  was  a  man  of  unusual  energy.  As  for  his 
theories  of  universal  undulation — which  are  not  on  the  whole  very 
different  from  the  theories  of  evolution — they  have  very  little  interest 
for  us,  so  schematic  are  they  and  distant  from  facts  !  Toward 
the  end  of  his  book  there  are  some  curious  details  on  what  Conta 
calls  laws  of  universal  assimilation.  I  say  curious  because  the 
author,  hastened  and  hindered  by  the  malady  which  finally  carried 
him  off,  had  not  time  to  develop  his  thought,  and  he  has  thrown 
together  simple  notes,  and  these  notes  seem  to  me  to  explain  his 
method  very  clearly.  It  follows  from  the  first  idea  that  all  bodies 
tend  to  assimilate  others  by  each  communicating  its  own  peculiar 
external  and  internal  movement.  This  applies  in  the  first  place  to 
purely  physical  phenomena  :  so  a  body  that  presses  (this  is  his  own 
expression,  p.  208)  communicates  the  direction  of  its  own  displace- 
ment to  that  of  the  body  that  is  pressed,  etc.  Then  come  the  physi- 
ological phenomena  :  the  particles  which  go  to  make  bone  are  trans- 
formed into  bony  matter.  Then  he  passes  to  contagion  of  diseases, 
without  being  aware  of  the  abruptness  of  the  transition  :  the  differ- 
ent degrees  of  unhealthiness  are  communicated  from  individual  to 
individual.  Finally,  the  author  cites,  as  being  part  of  the  same 
series,  psychical  influences.  We  experience  the  emotions  of  those 
with  whom  we  happen  to  be  ;  we  laugh  with  those  that  laugh,  and 
weep  with  those  who  weep,  etc.  All  phenomena  attributed  to  imi- 
tation belong  to  assimilation  :  "all  phenomena  produced  in  the  ner- 
vous system  of  the  person  who  influences  is  communicated  with 
more  or  less  force  to  the  nervous  system  of  the  person  influenced  " 
(p.  211).  I  think  that  this  series  of  arguments  gives  us  enough 
light  on  the  value  of  this  work.  A.  B. 


La  Vie  et  la  Pensde :  essai  de   conception  experimentale.       G.    PIOGER. 

Paris,  Alcan,  1894.     Pp.  260. 

In  this  book  M.  Pioger  aims  to  trace  the  development  of  organic 
life  into  conscious  and  mental  life,  and  to  this  end  he  gathers  and 

296  GENERAL. 

coordinates  facts  from  the  experimental  sciences.  Hence  he  adds 
to  his  title  the  phrase  '  experimental  conception  '  or  the  systematiza- 
tion  of  our  real  knowledge.  Such  knowledge  is  confined  to  our 
thought  of  the  relations  which  we  find  among  things,  for  we  cannot 
penetrate  into  the  substance  of  things.  Yet  it  is  true  and  objective 
knowledge  in  spite  of  Berkeley  (?);  and  this  knowledge  enables  us 
to  conceive  the  world  experimentally — that  is,  to  systematize  the 
relations  which  we  perceive  and  to  embrace  them  as  a  whole  by 

Our  thoughts  are  produced  by  the  special  orientation  of  our  psy- 
chic sensibility,  which  suffers  the  influences  of  the  environment  of 
which  it  is  a  part,  and  of  which  the  most  intimate  parts  also  go  to 
compose  it.  So  thought  is  prepared  for  specific  organic  and  vital 
functions.  It  appears  at  the  moment  that  what  M.  Pioger  calls  men- 
tality arises  from  the  relation  of  certain  vital  elements.  Mentality 
is  that  which  personifies  our  intellectual  aptitudes  and  gives  us  our 
mental  constitution.  This  constitution,  therefore,  takes  root  in  our 
organic  constitution,  and  that  in  turn  in  our  inorganic  constitution — 
a  result  from  the  solidarity  of  inorganic  elements.  From  mentality 
and  its  phenomena  we  reach  the  concept  of  consciousness,  which  is 
a  mid-term  between  life  and  thought. 

Consciousness,  therefore,  plunges  its  roots  into  the  depths  of  our 
lower  life  and  pushes  its  branches  up  into  the  intellectual  and  social. 
M.  Pioger  gives  a  table  showing  the  various  ramifications. 

The  individual  consciousness  is,  then,  only  a  preparation  for 
social  life  and  consciousness,  whose  phenomena  arise  from  the  recip- 
rocal action  and  articulation  of  social  elements,  just  as  in  turn  the 
phenomena  of  mentality  and  intelligence  result  from  the  articulation 
in  the  sphere  of  the  individual's  psychic  sensibility.  To  the  first 
part,  which  gives  the  analysis  of  the  elements  constitutive  of  thought 
and  life,  and  shows  the  lower  regions  in  which  they  lie  hidden,  M. 
Pioger  adds  a  second  part  devoted  to  the  synthesis  of  elements.  He 
shows  the  solidarity  which  they  come  to  present  in  the  individual 
(in  thought),  in  the  race  (by  heredity),  and  in  society. 

To  sum  up,  the  book  is  an  attempt  to  throw  together  some  of 
the  data  of  experimental  science  from  a  point  of  view  similar  to 
Spencer's,  but  narrower.  But  the  data  are  arbitrarily  chosen,  and 
the  results  are  in  many  cases  open  to  dispute.  It  is  not  based  on 
original  or  new  research.  J.  PHILIPPE. 


Peregrinazioni  Psicologiche.  T.  VIGNOLI.  Milan,  Hoepli,  1895.  Pp.  404. 

This  is  a  collection  of  notes  and  essays  published  on  various 

occasions  between  1882  and  1894.     The  title  of  the  book  is  justified 


not  only  by  the  variety  of  subjects  it  handles,  but  also  by  the  lack 
of  any  studied  arrangement,  neither  the  order  of  time  nor  that  of 
topics  being  strictly  observed.  Each  article,  however,  is  marked 
by  lucidity  of  exposition  and  by  a  wealth  of  details  which,  though 
familiar  for  the  most  part  to  students  of  psychology,  are  made  to  do 
good  service  for  the  critical  and  constructive  purposes  of  the  author. 

The  volume  would  not  have  suffered  seriously  by  the  omission  of 
the  discourse  on  'The  Paleontology  of  the  Spirit,'  as  this  is  merely 
a  bit  of  sarcasm  expended  on  unscientific  notions — '  fossils  of  the 
mind.'  Of  the  remaining  articles,  that  which  possesses  the  most 
actual  interest  is  on  'colored  audition.'  To  understand  this  phe- 
nomenon we  must  recall  the  facts  of  brain-growth.  The  protoplasm 
was  the  seat  of  general  sensation.  As  the  various  tissues,  organs 
and  centres  were  differentiated,  the  original  aptitude  to  receive  all 
sorts  of  impressions  remained  in  a  latent  form.  Its  revival  explains 
those  *  organic  metaphors '  whereby  a  single  impression  gives  rise  to 
different  sensations.  This  explanation,  however,  is  put  forward 
simply  as  an  hypothesis,  with  a  prudent  '  perhaps '  here  and  there. 

'Paramnesia'  the  author  handles  with  more  assurance.  Such 
peculiarities  of  memory,  far  from  being  abnormal,  are  accounted  for 
by  three  causes  :  the  reproduction,  by  association,  of  ideas,  images 
and  feelings  ;  the  rapidity  of  thought ;  and  the  automatic  construct- 
ive power  of  mind  and  imagination.  Because  the  mind,  when  it 
perceives  an  analogy  between  a  present  object  and  one  that  was 
previously  perceived,  fails  to  distinguish  one  from  the  other,  it 
transfers  the  actual  image  to  an  indefinite  past.  The  comparative 
judgment  is  inhibited  partly  by  the  rapidity  of  thought  and  partly 
by  the  unconscious  character  of  one  of  the  factors. 

To  *  certain  unconscious  intervals  in  a  coordinated  series  of 
psychic  acts,'  a  lengthy  study  is  devoted.  That  such  intervals  are 
possible  is  shown  from  numerous  facts  of  memory,  dream-picturing 
and  the  ordinary  activity  of  the  waking  state.  They  are  filled  in  by 
cerebral  functions,  which,  though  they  do  not  rise  into  conscious- 
ness, are  capable,  because  of  the  laws  of  heredity,  of  linking  one 
conscious  state  with  another. 

An  inquiry  into  the  '  genesis  of  our  sense-perceptions '  leads,  by 
delicate  analysis  of  the  physical  and  physiological  processes,  to  the 
vexed  question — How  does  the  brain-motion  become  sensation  ? 
The  answer  is  facilitated  by  a  comparison.  Between  the  qualities 
which  an  element  acquires  in  passing  from  one  allotropic  state  to 
another,  and  its  molecular  structure,  there  is  no  relation  that  we  can 
discern.  Nor  is  there,  so  far  as  we  can  perceive,  any  relation  be- 

298  GENERAL. 

tween  the  physiological  process  and  the  sensation.  They  are  two 
states.  The  physical  state  and  the  psychical  state  are  the  eternal 
and  fundamental  forms  of  the  universe. 

Five  of  the  articles  contained  in  the  volume,  though  treating  of 
different  subjects,  present  a  certain  similarity.  Thus  the  growth 
of  '  the  moral  sense '  is  explained  according  to  the  laws  of  evolution, 
and  especially  of  heredity.  Man's  vicious  proclivities  are  the 
effects  of  atavism,  of  reversion  to  a  pre-human  condition  from  which 
man  emerged  by  an  act  of  reflection.  To  make  the  results  of  this 
act  prevail  over  the  atavistic  tendency,  is  the  secret  of  social  pro- 
gress. Again,  '  attention  '  being  widened  out  till  it  means  'response 
to  a  stimulus/  it  is  found  to  be  essentially  the  same  throughout  the 
animal  series.  Only  in  man  there  is  a  power  of  introspection 
whereby  he  can  attend  to  the  very  act  of  attention  ;  and  this  it  is 
that  distinguishes  him  from  the  lower  animals.  The  same  line  of 
demarcation  is  drawn  in  the  article  on  the  'origin  of  articulate 
speech.'  Man  has,  in  common  with  other  animals,  a  'physiological 
language';  but  this  is  fundamentally  different  from  speech.  The 
latter  is  not  a  copy  but  a  symbol  of  the  internal  process.  In  man 
thought  precedes  speech  ;  so  that  from  the  articulation  of  the  one 
by  reflection  there  results  the  articulation  of  the  other — its  outward 

The  importance  of  the  '  sensory  image  for  the  development  and 
exercise  of  intelligence,'  arises  from  the  very  vagueness  of  the  image 
that  would  seem  to  be  an  imperfection.  Our  perceptions  are  gen- 
eric, i.  <?.,  they  give  us  but  a  small  part  of  the  details  which  the 
object  really  contains.  This  is  required  in  all  animals  by  the  neces- 
sities of  existence  ;  since  life  would  be  impossible  if  a  minute  exam- 
ination of  each  object  had  to  be  made.  In  man,  moreover,  the 
generic  character  of  perception  aids  intelligence  and  gives  rise  to 
science,  by  serving  as  a  means  of  classification  and  ulterior  abstrac- 
tion. The  act  of  reflection  being  proper  to  man,  extreme  caution 
must  be  used  in  interpreting  those  actions  of  animals  which  seem  to 
be  on  a  par  with  those  of  human  intelligence.  On  this  principle, 
and  on  his  personal  observations,  Vignoli  criticizes  with  consider- 
able keenness  the  accounts  given  by  Lubbock  and  others  of  the 
dog's  reading  and  counting  abilities,  and  shows,  how  in  these  respects, 
the  animal  is  inferior  to  the  child  and  the  savage. 

His  '  notes  on  a  psychology  of  sex  '  are  divided  into  two  parts. 
In  the  first  he  outlines  the  intellectual,  moral  and  industrial  traits 
by  which  the  sexes  differ,  and  which  depend  upon  organic  and  func- 
tional differences.  In  the  second  he  insists  that  man,  from  the 


beginning,    must  have    been  a  social    being;   otherwise,    articulate 
speech  would  never  have  been  formed. 


Philosophy  of  Mind :  An  Essay  in  the  Metaphysics  of  Psychology.  G.  T. 
LADD.  New  York,  Charles  Scribner's  Sons,  1895.  Pp.  XIV 
+  4M. 

It  is  a  little  more  than  a  year  since  Professor  Ladd  ended  the 
preface  to  his  Psychology,  Descriptive  and  Explanatory,  with  a  promise 
to  deal  in  a  later  work  with  the  philosophical  problems  which  empiri- 
cal psychology  suggests.  This  promise  is  fulfilled  in  the  volume 
before  us.  The  field  covered  does  not  include  all  the  questions  to 
which  psychology  gives  rise — it  would  need  a  system  rather  than  an 
'essay'  for  that — but  the  author  selects  for  treatment  a  number  of 
topics  which  are  intimately  connected  with  current  discussions,  and 
which  possess  an  abiding  interest.  The  standpoint  from  which  these 
are  considered  is  that  of  the  'empirical  science  of  mental  phenom- 
ena.' As  Professor  Ladd  says  (p.  82): 

"Indeed,  this  essay  in  the  philosophy  of  mind  is  deliberately 
based  upon  previous  long-continued  researches  into  the  facts  and 
laws  of  a  scientific  psychology.  *  *  *  And  it  is  the  author's  con- 
trolling wish  that  the  validity  of  the  following  speculative  conclus- 
ions should  constantly  be  brought  face  to  face  with  the  conclusions 
of  the  empirical  science  of  mind." 

Here,  whether  it  agrees  with  Professor  Ladd's  views  or  not,  the 
psychological  world  will  be  a  unit  in  according  him  the  praise  which 
is  due  the  patient  endeavor  to  base  metaphysics  on  the  only  secure 
foundation.  No  one  among  us  has  more  earnestly  studied  or  more 
carefully  sifted  the  data  and  the  outcome  of  scientific  psychology 
than  Professor  Ladd  ;  no  one,  therefore,  is  better  entitled  to  claim 
for  his  results  the  consideration  which  of  right  belongs  to  thinking 
of  such  a  character. 

Further,  as  psychologists  are  already  acquainted  with  the  author' & 
empirical  conclusions,  so  they  will  find  his  metaphysics  familiar 
almost  at  a  glance.  In  general  it  is  distinctly  Lotzean  in  tone  ; 
while  Professor  Ladd's  special  opinions  have  been  foreshadowed  in 
his  earlier  works,  including  his  Introduction  to  Philosophy.  Both  these 
points  are  evident  from  the  metaphysical  preludes  with  which  many 
of  the  chapters  of  the  present  work  begin,  as  well  as  in  the  conclus- 
ions reached.  For  instance,  reality  is  thus  defined  (p.  120): 

"Every  real  being  is  known  as  a  self-active  subject  of  states,  stand- 
ing in  manifold  relations  to  other  beings,  and  maintaining  its  right 


to  be  called  real  by  acting  and  being  acted  upon, — only,  however,  in 
obedience  to  certain  laws  (or  uniform  modes  of  its  behavior  as  such 
a  being  and  no  other)." 

Again,   concerning   the    consciousness   of    identity,  it  is  argued 

(P-  iS1): 

"  Every  x  (every  'Thing'  whatsoever),  in  order  to  be  entitled  still 

to  be  called  x  (or  the  'self-same'  thing)  must  in  its  changes  run  only 
through  series  such  as  can  be  indicated  by  x,  x1,  x*,  x3,  x*  .  .  .  xn  ; 
or  on  occasion  of  its  coming  into  other  relations  with  different  beings, 
the  series  may  be  that  indicated  by  xt  x«,  x&,  xt,  Xs  .  .  jcw." 

And  it  is  concluded  : 

"The  real  identity  of  anything  consists  in  this,  that  its  self- 
activity  manifests  itself,  in  all  its  different  relations  to  other  things, 
as  conforming  to  an  immanent  idea."  Similarly  unity  in  anything 
whatever  is  held  to  imply  'the  presence  of  some  ideal  in  the  very 
being  of  the  thing'  (p.  191),  and  self-consciousness,  in  its  unitary 
development,  to  yield  the  best,  if  not  the  only  conception  of  what  a 
unit-being  is  ;  permanency  in  things  and  minds  alike  is  deemed  a 
matter  of  inferred  rather  than  of  direct  knowledge,  and  the  perma- 
nent being  of  mind  is  believed  interrupted  when  consciousness 
lapses,  except  for  the  modicum  of  existence  which  consists  in  'a 
certain  abiding  relation  to  all  reality'  or  'the  world-ground'  (p. 


The  interest  of  psychologists,  therefore,  will  centre  about  the 
way  in  which  these  two  familiar  elements  of  Professor  Ladd's  think- 
ing are  combined  and  the  results  to  which  his  inquiry  leads  him. 
The  book  opens  with  two  chapters  on  '  Psychology  and  the  Philos- 
ophy of  Mind.'  The  chief  thesis  here  is  the  impossibility  of 
divorcing  psychology  and  philosophy  altogether.  This  will  be 
admitted  by  all — as  to  the  latter  end  ;  for  that  psychology  issues  in 
the  problems  which  philosophy  discusses,  is  not  susceptible  of  doubt. 
That  psychology  as  a  science  actually  does,  and  of  necessity  must,  • 
include  metaphysical  assumptions  in  its  course,  should  be  equally 
clear ;  although,  no  doubt,  many  will  question  the  truth  of  the 
proposition.  It  is  an  easy  task  for  Professor  Ladd  to  show  that  the 
natural  science,  on  the  level  of  which  our  'new  psychology*  delights 
to  stand,  is  itself  '  shot  through '  with  metaphysical  elements  ;  and 
just  as  easy,  though  the  work  is  rather  more  novel,  to  prove  by  ex- 
amples— Hoffding,  James,  and  Flournoy  are  cited — that  the  professed 
rejectors  of  metaphysics  are  among  the  chief  offenders  against  their 
own  first  principle.  The  nerve  of  the  argument  appears,  however, 
in  the  conclusion  that  the  only  legitimate  choice  left  for  the 


psychologist  is  between  the  uncritical  dualism  of  common  life  and 
the  adoption  of  l  some  definitive  metaphysical  point  of  view '  (p.  42) 
of  his  own  selection,  as  has  been  done  by  Volkmann  and  Wundt. 
This  may  be  the  alternative  in  the  present  transitional  condition  of 
psychology.  But  surely  history  points  toward  a  better  ideal  for  the 
future,  namely,  the  critical — though  not  always  reflectively  critical 
— determination  and  adoption  by  all  of  such  principles  as  will  best 
subserve  the  progress  and  the  exactness  of  the  science.  It  was  in 
this  way  that  the  rising  sciences  of  the  modern  era  threw  off  the 
trammels  which  formed  their  heritage  from  Aristotle  and  the 
medievalists  ;  thus  physics,  to  take  a  more  special  example,  has  in 
our  own  time  been  criticising  some  of  its  fundamental  concepts, 
although  to  students  of  philosophy  its  advance  may  seem  painfully 
hesitating  and  slow.  So  also  psychology  is  still  in  the  throes  of  its 
new  birth.  And  when  the  happy  time  shall  come  for  us  to  be  fitted 
out  with  even  as  good  a  set  of  working  principles  as  that  which  the 
physical  sciences  of  the  day  enjoy,  we  shall  be  secure  from  the 
vagaries  of  the  'psychologies  without  a  soul'  on  the  one  hand,  and 
the  necessity  of  constant  re-discussion  of  our  primary  assumptions 
on  the  other.  But  on  any  view  of  the  case,  it  must  be  regretted 
that  Professor  Ladd's  polemic  manner  lags  behind  the  material  force 
of  his  arguments.  The  use  of  horrible  examples  is  always  a  danger- 
ous expedient  in  a  technical  treatise  ;  and  the  psychological  world 
will  unite  in  deploring  the  characterization  of  Hoifding's  introduc- 
tion of  metaphysics  into  his  psychology  as  a  'covert  effort'  (p.  22) 
and  James's  positivistic  attitude  as  the  'position  of  materialism'  (pp. 

28,  39). 

Chapters  III-VI  constitute  the  kernel  of  the  volume.  The  chief 
positive  outcome  of  the  first  of  them,  on  'The  Concept  of  Mind,'  is 
the  emphasis  laid  on  the  element  of  self-activity  in  all  self-conscious- 
ness. Chapter  V,  on  the  '  Consciousness  of  Identity  and  So-called 
Double  Consciousness,'  is  the  paper  presented  by  the  author  at  the 
last  meeting  of  the  Psychological  Association  ;  together  with  Chap- 
ter VI,  on  'The  Unity  of  Mind,'  it  advocates  identity  and  unity  as 
real  predicates  of  the  self,  on  the  basis  of  the  unity  of  the  life  of  con- 
sciousness and  in  the  sense  of  the  definitions  above  cited.  Chapter 
IV  deals  with  a  question  central  to  the  whole  discussion,  '  The  Re- 
ality of  Mind.'  Noetically,  it  is  argued  here,  'knowledge  impli- 
cates reality,'  and,  metaphysically,  all  the  marks  of  reality  belong  to 
the  mind,  known  as  a  'here-and-now-being'  in  self-consciousness 
and  as  a  'then-and-there-being'  in  memory,  and  inferred  to  be  a 
permanent  existence  by  reflective  thought  working  on  the  data  of 


experience.  Hence,  also,  it  is  concluded  as  a  corollary,  "The 
peculiar,  the  only  intelligible  and  indubitable  reality  which  belongs  to 
Mind  is  its  being  for  itself,  by  actual  functioning  of  self-conscious- 
iiess,  of  recognitive  memory,  and  of  thought"  (p.  147).  Yet  it  is  with  a 
sense  of  disappointment  that  the  reader  ends  the  chapter.  The 
difficulty  is  partly  one  of  method.  In  putting  his  most  important 
thesis  so  early  in  his  work  the  author  has  lost  the  advantage  of  the 
several  arguments,  positive  and  negative,  which  later  on  might  have 
been  combined  into  a  proof  of  cumulative  force.  It  is  partly  a 
difficulty  with  Professor  Ladd's  theory  of  knowledge,  at  least  in  so 
far  as  he  has  yet  announced  it.  After  diligent  study  of  his  various 
works,  the  present  writer  inclines  to  the  belief  that  his  first  principle, 
u knowledge  implicates  reality,'  knowledge  and  reality  are  correlates, 
etc.,  might  lin  some  sort'  be  acceptable  to  many  of  those  not 
agnostics  or  phenomenists.  But  when  this  is  used  as  a  kind  of  uni- 
versal major,  with  little  or  no  systematic  determination  of  subordi- 
nate criteria,  especially  when  the  psychology  and  the  noetics  of 
self-consciousness  are  so  intermingled  that  it  is  often  impossible  to 
decide  on  the  basis  of  which  of  the  two  the  argument  is  proceeding ; 
the  effect  is  not  only  confusion  concerning  the  meaning  of  Professor 
Ladd's  reasonings,  but  doubt  in  regard  to  their  validity.  But  the 
difficulty  arises  partly,  also,  from  an  underestimation  of  the  strength 
of  opposing  theories.  The  same  failure  to  realize  the  importance  of 
the  reinforcements  which  have  come  to  the  cerebralists  and  material- 
ists from  the  newer  researches  that  marked  Part  III  of  the 
Physiological  Psychology,  reappears  in  the  present  treatise.  And  this, 
though  the  psychological  world  owes  a  debt  of  gratitude  to  Professor 
Ladd  for  the  earnest  defence  of  the  reality  and  spirituality  of  mind 
which  he  has  given  alike  in  the  earlier  and  in  the  later  work. 

Chapters  VII-VIII,  on  'Mind  and  Body,'  are  for  the  most  part 
an  elaboration  of  chapters  XI,  XXI  and  XXII  of  Psychology,  Descrip- 
tive and  Explanatory.  But  chapters  IX,  '  Materialism  and  Spiritual- 
ism,' and  X,  'Monism  and  Dualism,'  are  among  the  most  successful 
in  the  book.  In  the  former  vigorous  blows  are  dealt  the  materialistic 
theory,  without  yielding  to  the  claims  of  spiritualism  in  the  monistic 
sense  of  the  term.  In  the  latter  a  still  more  forcible  assault  is  made 
on  both  the  scientific  basis  and  the  metaphysical  deductions  of  the 
current  psychological  Spinozism.  In  Professor  Ladd's  own  words 
(P-  344)  : 

"In  brief,  then,  the  alleged  scientific  principle  of  psycho-physical 
parallelism  is  far  from  being  the  self-evident  conclusion  of  modern 
ps#£hGr.physical  research  w4iich.-it  is so.  often,  and.  so  rashly  assumed 


to  be.  Even  the  simplest  relations  between  the  phenomena  of  the 
lowest  order  of  consciousness  and  the  concomitant  cerebral  activities 
are  far  too  fluctuating,  complicated  and  changeable  to  be  subsumed 
under  this  principle.  Of  parallelism  in  space  we  cannot  speak 
appropriately  in  this  connection.  Of  parallelism  in  time  there  is 
only  an  incomplete  and  broken  analogy.  And  when  one  tries  to 
think  out  clearly  the  conception  of  a  complete  qualitative  parallelism, 
one  finds  the  principle  soon  ending  in  inadequacy,  and  finally  becom- 
ing unintelligible  or  absurd  *  *  *  ." 

Nor  if  the  doctrine  of  psycho-physical  parallelism,  in  the  fullest 
meaning  of  the  phrase,  were  proven,  would  monism  necessarily  fol- 
low. Rather  the  clearest  inference  would  be  to  a  moderate  dualism, 
even  though  it  is  difficult  to  share  the  author's  confidence  that  the 
*  double-aspect*  theory  is  utterly  meaningless. 

The  remaining  discussions  of  the  'Origin  and  Permanence  of 
Mind '  and  the  *  Place  of  Man's  Mind  in  Nature '  point  forward  to 
the  future  development  of  Professor  Ladd's  views  on  ethics  and  the 
philosophy  of  religion.  These  will  be  the  more  eagerly  awaited  in 
view  of  the  value  of  the  present  volume,  which,  in  spite  of  defects, 
is  one  of  the  most  notable  contributions  of  recent  years  to  the  litera- 
ture of  the  subject.  A.  C.  ARMSTRONG,  JR. 


Elements  of  Psychology  (Syllabus  of  Philosophy  /).     J.    H.    HYSLOP, 

Columbia  College,  New  York,  1895.  Pp.  130. 
This  syllabus  is  best  described  in  Dr.  Hyslop's  own  words:  "As 
a  time-saving  instrument  in  my  lectures  on  the  subject,  and  as  a 
guide  to  my  students  in  their  reading  and  study."  It  has  also  a 
personal  interest  in  showing  those  who  have  been  instructed  by  the 
author's  work  in  other  departments — logic  and  ethics — his  general 
conception  of  the  psychological  area  and  its  problems.  Aside  from 
these  two  uses  it  is  hard  to  see  what  purpose  it  can  serve.  The 
analysis,  while  systematic  and  thorough  as  analysis,  (excepting  the 
chapter  on  emotion)  does  not  allow  one  to  see  far  enough  into  Dr. 
Hyslop's  mind  to  warrant  confidence  as  to  one's  insight  into  what 
his  psychological  position  really  is,  This,  of  course,  is  a  defect,  if 
defect  it  be,  not  in  execution  but  in  original  design  ;  for  Professor 
Dewey  has  recently  shown  in  his  *  Study  of  Ethics '  the  possibility  of 
a  syllabus  which  shall  contain  both  outline  and  suggestive  doctrine. 
The  analysis  is  indeed  so  thorough  and  comprehensive  that  here  at 
least  we  believe  that  'the  part  is  not  worth  more  than  the  whole,' 
•and  we  hope  that  Dr.  Hyslop  may  see  fit  some  time  to  give  his  lee- 


tures  text-book  form.  The  balance  between  the  introspective  and 
the  '  extrospective '  methods  is,  so  far  as  can  be  judged,  well  pre- 
served, and  the  author's  breadth  of  view  and  psychological  tolerance 
are  well  shown  in  his  use  of  the  observations  of  the  'psychic 
researchers.'  How  justifiable  his  particular  use  of  these  observations 
is,  is  another  question  (witness,  for  example,  the  remarks  on  the 
phenomena  of  retention),  for  the  condensed  analytic  outline,  because 
of  its  necessary  meagerness,  warns  one  off  the  field  of  interpretation 
and  criticism.  This  is  shown  again  in  the  remarks  made  on  sublimi- 
nal consciousness. 

Particularly  striking  is  Chapter  X,  on  the  'Will  or  Conation.' 
Psychological  students  owe  the  author  a  debt  of  gratitude  for  this 
piece  of  analysis.  It  is  a  valuable  supplement  to  the  chapter  on  the 
1  Freedom  of  the  Will'  in  the  Ethics.  These  two  chapters  throw 
light  on  each  other.  R.  B.  JOHNSON. 


Popular  Scientific  Lectures.  E.  MACH.  Translated  by  Thomas  J. 
McCormack.  Chicago,  The  Open  Court  Publishing  Co.,  1895. 
Pp.  313.  Price,  $1.00. 

Nearly  all  the  lectures  constituting  this  volume  deal  with  the 
physiological  or  psychological  side  of  physical  questions  ;  four  treat 
of  the  methods  and  development  of  science,  briefly  outlining  a 
theory  of  cognition. 

Science,  according  to  Prof.  Mach,  is  essentially  an  economy  of 
thought.  Rooted  in  the  most  primitive  psychical  functions  of  life, 
this  economy  reaches  its  highest  perfection  in  language  and  mathe- 
matics. Here,  in  the  psychological  origin  and  nature  of  our  ideas, 
the  elucidative  power  of  the  principle  is  obvious. 

A  natural  law  is  a  rule  or  body  of  directions  for  the  mental  re- 
construction of  facts ;  enabling  us  to  anticipate  and  retrace  in 
thought  the  steps  of  nature.  To  this  end  it  embraces  only  certain 
aspects  of  the  facts,  such  as  are  determinative.  By  means  of  these 
determinative  elements  and  their  formal  constituents,  we  complete 
in  thought  facts  that  are  only  partly  given;  derive  complete  results 
from  incomplete  data.  To  reach  the  ungiven  elements  we  should, 
on  the  primitive  plan,  have  to  resort  to  slow  and  tedious  experience; 
that  infinite  pains  we  save  ourselves  by  economical  natural  laws. 
This  is  all  that  science  accomplishes.  Its  individual  results  we 
could  reach  in  a  sufficiently  long  time  directly  and  without  methods. 

The  mental  reconstruction  of  facts  we  accomplish  by  description,1 

1  The  view  that  '  explanation '  is  merely  the  description  of  unknown  phenomena  in 
terms  of  known  phenomena  was  stated  by  Mach  before  either  Clifford  or  Kirchhoff, 


rendered  necessary  by  communication,  effected  by  comparison.  Of 
description  there  are  two  kinds:  direct  and  indirect.  We  describe 
a  fact  directly  when  we  employ  terms  having  an  abstract  import  only, 
where  our  comparisons  suggest  only  conceptual  relations.  For  ex- 
ample, the  definition  of  quantity  of  heat,  being  a  definite  numerical 
statement  of  a  certain  determinate  relation  between  temperatures 
and  masses,  is  a  direct  description,  involving  no  adscititious  notion, 
and  having  validity  whether  heat  is  a  substance  or  a  motion  ;  and 
the  same  is  true  of  energy.  Now  Black,  in  formulating  the  defini- 
tion of  quantity  of  heat,  and  Mayer  and  Joule,  in  stating  the  law  of 
energy,  viewed  the  facts  under  the  notion  of  a  substance  ;  in  so  doing 
they  resorted  to  indirect  description — they  employed  a  simile  in  which 
unessential  and  superfluous  features  were  involved.  Of  such  a  char- 
acter are  theories  in  science,  the  wave-theory  of  light,  heat  as  a 
motion,  etc.,  useful  in  the  preliminary  steps  of  research,  of  unmis- 
takable power  as  heuristic  agents,  but  destined  to  be  discarded 
when  that  final  consummation  of  knowledge  is  reached — the  simplest 
and  completest  possible  abstract  expression  of  the  facts.  Direct  descrip- 
tion is  the  goal  of  all  research.  Moreover,  the  method  of  physiolo- 
gical psychology  is  the  same  as  that  of  physics. 

Finally,  is  science,  description,  the  ultimate  unanalysable  term 
in  knowledge  ?  Viewed  in  its  higher  collective  relations,  and  quali- 
fied by  the  restrictions  incident  upon  such  a  view,  it  is.  We  seek  in 
philosophy  an  integral  aspect  of  the  universe  ;  but  our  method  is  the 
differential  method.  It  is  in  the  latter  that  we  must  seek  the  foun- 
dations and  conditions  of  our  knowledge,  not  in  the  former.  That 
economy  which  is  embodied  in  our  thoughts  is  conditioned  upon  the 
formal  needs  of  the  mind,  but  it  is  not  necessarily  to  be  found  in 
nature.  T.  J.  MCCORMACK. 


(i.)  An  Introduction  to  the  Study  of  Society.     A.  W.  SMALL  and  G.  E, 

VINCENT.     Am.  Book  Co.,  1894. 
(2.)  Les  Transformations  du  droit.      G.  TARDE.       2  erne  ed.      Alcan, 

(3.)  limitation  et  la   logique    sociale.      R.    BERTHELOT,    Revue    de 

Metaphysique  et  de  Morale.      1894.     Pp.  93-97. 

with  whose  names  it  is  usually  associated.  The  theory,  natural  enough  in  its  origin, 
is  not  new  in  philosophy,  although  propounded  independently  by  all  the  above-men- 
tioned inquirers  and  rendered  exact  only  by  their  definitions. 


(4.)  Le  Probttme  de  la  sociologie.     G.  SIMMEL,  idem.      Pp.  497-504. 
(5.)  Les  Ragles  de  la  methode  sociologique.     E.  DURKHEIM,  Revue  Phi- 
losophique,  May-August,  1894. 

The  province  and  method  of  sociology  are  at  present  a  centre  of 
discussion.  As  sociology  in  one  of  its  aspects  is  social  psychol- 
ogy, this  involves  discussion  as  to  the  possibility  of  a  social  as  vs.  an 
individual  psychology,  and,  if  this  be  admitted,  as  to  the  natural 
relations  of  the  two. 

i.  The  province  of  sociology  is,  according  to  Professor  Small,  three- 
fold. Descriptive  sociology  is  the  science  of  the  coordinated  facts 
of  society  as  it  is  ;  statical  sociology  is  the  science  of  social  ideals, 
an  approximate  account  of  the  society  which  ought  to  be  ;  dynami- 
cal sociology  studies  the  available  resources  for  changing  the  actual 
into  the  ideal.  Passing  over  the  last  two,  descriptive  sociology  is 
more  particularly  "the  organization  of  all  the  positive  knowledge  of 
man  and  of  society  furnished  by  biology,  anthropology,  psychology," 
etc.,  etc.,  and  "attempts  to  combine  the  testimony  of  these  special 
sciences  into  a  revelation  of  the  accidental  and  permanent  factors  in 
social  combinations."  The  other  writers  are  all  inclined  to  seek  a 
narrower,  more  specific  field.  M.  Tarde  (whose  numerous  works 
demand  a  special  treatment)  finds  the  essential  characteristic  of 
social  phenomena  to  be  'imitation,'  understood  in  the  sense  of 
"every  reflection  of  one  mind  in  others,  of  one  will  in  others." 
Similar  social  phenomena  (those  of  law  are  studied  in  particular) 
may  be  due  either  to  'invention,'  in  response  to  the  demands  of  the 
environment,  which  refers  us  to  a  biological  cause,  or  to  imitation,  a 
social  cause.  It  is  then  this  latter  class  of  relations  which  forms  the 
subject  of  a  'pure'  sociology,  as  distinguished  from  biology  and  his- 
tory. M.  Berthelot,  in  an  acute  review  of  Tarde  (Revue  de  Met., 
l893>  5°7-5l8),  of  which  (3)  is  a  restatement,  objects  that  to 
make  imitation  the  sole  social  category  is  a  mistake  like  that  of  the 
Ionic  school  of  philosophers  with  their  water,  air,  etc.  "The  object 
of  a  'pure  sociology'  is  to  determine  the  conditions  apart  from 
which  no  stable  social  group  is  possible."  Sociology  is  social  logic, 
a  theory  of  the  inventions  necessary  for  society  ;  and  imitation,  like 
language  or  law,  is  merely  one  of  these  necessities.  In  fact,  it  falls 
under  the  consideration  of  pure  sociology  only  in  proportion  as  it  is 
shown  to  be  necessary  to  this  end.  Professor  Simmel  attempts  a 
still  more  definite  delimitation.  If  sociology  embraces  all  that 
occurs  in  society,  and  is  understood  as  an  explanation  of  all  events 
by  social  forces  and  considerations,  it  is  only  a  method  (as,  e.  g., 
induction),  not  a  special  science.  But  as  psychology  separates 


out  the  content  of  mental  states  and  considers  simply  the  form,  so 
sociology  must  isolate  the  distinctively  social  and  study  the  form  of 
association  as  such.  The  contents,  /.  e.,  the  interests  and  objects  real- 
ized by  association,  belong  to  the  specific  historical  and  material 
sciences.  The  'form'  in  question  is  reciprocal  action,  association; 
and  in  the  most  various  types  of  social  groups — religious,  economic, 
etc. — we  find  the  same  special  forms  of  subordination,  imitation, 
division  of  labor,  etc.  The  mere  fact  that  phenomena  are  common 
to  all  does  not  make  them  social,  nor  do  similarities  and  regularities 
established  by  statistics  belong  here  if  each  has  an  individual  cause. 
Not  what  takes  place  in  society,  but  what  takes  place  by  society,  is  the 
field  of  sociology.  M.  Durkheim,  though  his  chief  aim  is  to  set 
forth  the  methods  to  be  employed  in  the  science,  prefaces  his  ex- 
tremely suggestive  articles  by  a  consideration  of  what  is  meant  by  a 
social  fact.  A  social  fact  comprises  "  every  kind  of  activity  or  func- 
tioning, whether  fixed  in  definite  law  or  not,  which  is  capable  of  ex- 
ercising an  external  constraint  upon  the  individual,  or  one  which  is 
general  throughout  a  given  society  and  has  a  proper  existence  of  its 
own,  independent  of  its  individual  manifestations."  Language, 
law,  financial  systems  impose  themselves  on  the  individual.  They 
are  general  because  collective  (/.  e.,  obligatory),  and  not  vice  versa. 

2.  The  relation  of  sociology  to  psychology,  implied  in  these  various 
definitions,  is  in  many  cases  evident.  None  of  our  writers  would,  I 
think,  accept  Mill's  statements,  "men  are  not,  when  brought  to- 
gether, converted  into  another  kind  of  substance,"  "human  beings 
in  society  have  no  properties  but  those  which  are  derived  from  and 
may  be  resolved  into  the  laws  of  the  nature  of  individual  man" — 
/.  <?.,  if  we  understand  by  'individual  man'  man  in  isolation  from  all 
social  relations  ;  and  it  is  difficult  to  find  anything  worth  saying  in 
the  statement  if  it  does  not  mean  this.  Small,  Tarde  and  Durkheim 
lay  especial  emphasis  upon  society  as  more  than  the  sum  of  indi- 
viduals, and  the  last  named  devotes  a  special  criticism  to  any  psy- 
chological explanation  of  social  facts — meaning  by  *  psychological ' 
an  explanation  based  on  the  laws  of  the  individual  consciousness. 
Similarly  Professor  Small  would  distinguish  "between  (i)  Psychology 
which  gives  an  account  of  mind  as  we  know  it  in  the  individual,  and 
(2)  Social  Psychology,  which  describes  the  phenomena  that  result  from 
the  combination  and  reaction  of  the  cognitions,  emotions  and  voli- 
tions of  associated  individuals."  Now,  I  can  but  think  that  Mill's 
*  individual  man '  hovers  in  the  background  of  these  statements,  and 
that  if  psychology  is  limited  to  the  study  of  that  mythical  being,  its 
field  is  so  narrow  as  to  be  scarcely  worth  tilling.  No  doubt  the 


sociologists  are  leading  the  psychologists  into  broader  horizons  ;  but 
if  we  follow  out  the  implications  of  the  authors  cited,  and  abstract 
from  'mind  as  we  know  it  in  the  individual,'  all  that  results  from  the 
forces  mentioned  under  (2),  e.  g.,  all  the  effects  of  language  and  in- 
tercourse, all  feelings  of  sympathy,  love,  all  volitions  involving 
others,  we  should  certainly  have  a  much  smaller  man  than  even 
present  psychology  studies.  Would  not  the  '  difficulty  of  demon- 
strating the  existence  of  social  as  distinguished  from  individual 
knowledge,  feeling  and  willing,  be  removed  by  the  recognition  here 
of  what  is  elsewhere  implied  in  the  authors'  conception  of  man,  viz., 
that  neither  (i)  nor  (2)  deals  with  anything  but  an  abstraction. 
There  is  no  'individual  mind,'  /.  e.,  mind  not  under  the  constant  in- 
fluence of  the  social  relations ;  neither  can  we  hope  to  find  any 
'social'  knowledge  or  feeling,  /.  <?.,  knowledge  or  feeling  not  exist- 
ing in  the  medium  of  individual  consciousness.  We  may  doubtless 
study  various  aspects  of  consciousness  in  isolation,  but  their  abstract 
character  should  be  distinctly  recognized,  and  neither  '  psycholo- 
gist' nor  'sociologist'  can  ignore  the  work  of  the  other. 

3.  The  methods  to  be  used  in  investigation  are  treated  at  length 
by  Durkheim.  They  include  (i)  rules  relating  to  observation  of 
social  facts.  These  are  :  (a)  consider  social  facts  as  things.  Bacon's 
'idols'  all  find  their  counterparts  in  social  science  at  present;  (b)  in 
defining  and  grouping  phenomena,  such  as  crime,  the  family,  etc.,  use 
at  first  external  marks  only,  not  by  what  may  be  deemed  the  essential 
characteristics,  nor  should  merely  one  type  of  facts  be  selected  and 
the  rest  tested  by  this  standard  ;  (c)  study  especially  the  consolida- 
tions of  social  facts  in  law,  proverbs,  modes,  etc.  (2)  Rules  for 
distinguishing  the  pathological  from  the  normal.  Here  the  rather 
startling  proposition  is  advanced  that,  at  the  outset  at  least,  the 
only  objective  criterion  for  the  normal  is  the  general.  Hence  nor- 
mal=the  mean,  diseased=the  exceptional.  But  it  is  evident  that 
greater  frequency  must  ordinarily  be  due  to  superiority,  to  '  health;' 
hence  (a)  we  may  control  our  results  by  seeking  the  cause  of  the 
generality  of  a  given  phenomena  in  its  relation  to  the  general  condi- 
tions of  life  in  the  social  type  considered  ;  and  (b)  this  becomes 
especially  necessary  in  the  case  of  a  social  species  in  a  transitional 
stage.  (3)  For  making  the  classification  into  social  types,  the 
objective  principle  to  be  adopted  as  our  standard  is  that  of  sim- 
plicity— /.  <?.,  we  ask  whether  a  given  group  is  made  up  of  units 
which  enclose  other  units  more  simple  than  itself.  (4)  Rules  for  ex- 
plaining social  faults,  (a)  It  is  common  to  find  the  reason  of  a  fact 
in  its  utility.  This  is  to  confound  final  with  efficient  causation,  and 


is  no  more  admissible  here  than  in  natural  science.  Function  and 
cause  must  be  examined  separately,  (b)  The  cause  of  a  social  fact 
must  always  be  sought  in  preceding  social  facts,  not  in  states  of  indi- 
vidual consciousness  [see  remarks  under  2  above],  (c)  The  func- 
tion of  a  social  fact  should  be  sought  in  the  relation  it  sustains  to 
some  social  end.  (d)  The  first  origin  of  every  social  process  should 
be  sought  in  the  constitution  of  the  internal  social  medium.  This 
will  depend  upon  two  factors  :  (a)  the  number  of  social  units,  the 
'•volume'  of  society  ;  (/?)  the  degree  of  concentration,  the  'dynamic 
density,'  which  is  a  function  of  the  number  of  individuals  who  are  in 
commercial  and  social  relations.  If  we  do  not  adopt  this  plan  we 
are  reduced  to  explain  progress  by  '  tendencies '  instead  of  by 
real  causes  ;  and,  further,  are  forced  to  treat  all  as  one  species  in 
greater  or  less  stages  of  advancement.  (5)  Methods  of  induction, 
(a)  The  doctrine  of  plurality  of  causes  bound  up  with  Mill's  philo- 
sophic presuppositions  is  to  be  rejected.  The  same  effect  is  not  pro- 
duced by  different  causes,  (b)  The  most  valuable  of  the  inductive 
methods  for  our  purpose  is  that  of  concomitant  variations,  for  which 
we  may  draw  our  facts  either  from  a  single  unique  society  at  differ- 
ent times,  or  from  several  societies  of  the  same  kind,  or  from  several 
of  different  kinds. 

The  principle  most  likely  to  challenge  criticism  is  that  reducing 
the  normal  to  the  general.  M.  Tarde  has  already  criticised  (Revue 
Phil.)  Feb.,  '95)  Durkheim's  own  inference  from  it  :  that  crime 
must  be  normal  because  general.  But  are  not  both  D.  and  T.  hasty 
in  asserting  that  the  above  definition  carries  with  it  the  inference  that 
crime  is  normal  ?  Is  crime  ever  so  general  in  any  group  as  to  be  the 
rule  and  not  the  exception — meaning  by  crime,  of  course,  acts  con- 
sidered criminal  by  the  group  in  question  ? 

UNIV.  OF  CHICAGO.  J.    H.    TUFTS. 


Anatomic  des  Centres  Nerveux.  J.  DEJERINE,  avec  la  collaboration 
de  Mme.  DEJERINE-KLUMPKE.  Vol.  I.  General  Methods  of 
Study,  Embryology,  Histogenesis  and  Histology-Anatomy  of 
the  Fore-Brain.  With  401  figures.  Paris,  Rueff  et  Cie.,  1895. 
Price,  32  francs. 

The  revolution  in  the  doctrine  on  the  architecture  of  the  ner- 
vous system  has  been  followed  by  a  number  of  publications  which 
endeavor  to  do  justice  to  the  rapid  progress.  None  of  those  books 
reaches  in  breadth  of  plan  and  in  the  number  and  choice  of  illustra- 


tions  the  new  work  of  Professor  Dejerine,  the  first  volume  of  which 
has  just  come  out.  Professor  Dejerine,  a  pupil  of  Vulpian,  is  in  the 
midst  of  a  brilliant  career  as  a  clinician  in  the  field  of  nervous  dis- 
eases. Independent  of  Charcot's  school,  he  has  done  remarkable 
work  in  the  Hospital  of  Bicetre,  which  is  probably  without  rival  in 
rare  nervous  affections.  His  wife,  Madame  Dejerine-Klumpke,  of 
American  birth,  has  become  known  through  her  experimental  work 
in  Vulpian's  laboratory  and  through  her  monograph  on  polyneuritis. 
The  volume  before  us  is  the  first  of  a  monumental  work  on  the  ner- 
vous system  from  the  hands  of  clinicians,  and  will  for  this  reason  be 
of  the  greatest  intent  and  practical  value. 

The  first  part  begins  with  the  history  and  description  of  the 
methods  used  for  the  study  of  the  nervous  system  (pp.  7-57).  A 
very  interesting  discussion  of  the  choice  of  a  post-mortem  disse< 
tion,  especially  in  pathological  brains,  with  full  description  of  the 
author's  own  method,  precedes  the  notes  on  hardening,  embedding, 
staining  and  drawing.  The  second  chapter  (pp.  58-153)  deals  with 
the  development  of  the  nervous  system,  and  contains  valuable  tera- 
tological  remarks,  besides  a  remarkably  clear  and  well-illustrated 
account  of  the  assiduous  work  of  the  last  years.  The  third  and 
fourth  chapters  (pp.  134-232)  are  devoted  to  histogenesis  and  to 
histology  of  the  central  and  peripheral  nerve  elements  in  the  adult. 
The  first  part  is  profusely  illustrated  with  drawings  taken  from  the 
publications  of  His,  Retzius,  Cajal  and  Ranvier;  the  selection  of  tl 
drawings  and  their  execution  deserve  equally  high  praise. 

The  second  part  of  the  volume  treats  of  the  anatomy  of  the 
Fore-Brain.  The  first  chapter  (pp.  223-386)  covers  the  general 
morphology,  the  convolutions  and  fissures,  the  base  of  the  fore-brain 
and  the  configuration  of  its  interior.  Numerous  drawings  from 
photographs  take  the  place  of  the  customary  diagrams.  The  second 
and  third  chapters  (pp.  387-666)  are  practically  a  description  of 
macroscopic  and  microscopic  serial  sections  through  the  cerebrum, 
made  in  different  directions,  and  forming  the  most  complete  atlas  of 
those  parts  published  so  far.  A  chapter  on  the  cerebral  cortex  (pp. 
667-741),  and  one  on  the  white  substance  of  the  cerebral  hemis- 
pheres (pp.  742-810),  form  the  end  of  this  first  volume,  rich  in  path- 
ological observations  with  regard  to  the  association  systems.  The 
second  volume  will  bring  the  description  of  the  remaining  parts  and 
a  systematic  analysis  of  the  fibre  tracts. 

The  style  is  very  clear,  the  current  epitome  on  the  margin  of  the 
pages  very  convenient.  Schematic  drawings  are  avoided ;  the 
figures  are  very  accurately  drawn  and  clear. 


Thus  we  have  before  us  the  first  half  of  a  work  of  fundamental 
importance  for  the  progress  of  neurology,  destined  to  bring  the 
clinician  into  closer  touch  with  the  anatomical  literature  that  is 
scattered  in  monographs  and  journals,  and  is  here  for  the  first  time 
made  satisfactorily  accessible.  Meritorious  as  are  the  smaller  works 
of  Edinger,  Obersteiner  Fe"re,  Debierre,  and  the  purely  anatomical 
treatises,  none  of  them  could  give  such  a  full  account  of  the  minute 
details  that  interest  the  clinicians  and  pathologists  of  to-day.  It  is 
to  be  hoped  that  the  second  volume  will  soon  follow  and  bring  a 
very  accurate  index.  ADOLF  MEYER. 


The  Growth  of  the  Brain  in  Men  and  Monkeys,  with  a  short  Criticism  of 
the  usual  Method  of  stating  Brain-ratios.  A.  KEITH.  Journal 
of  Anatomy  and  Physiology,  Vol.  XXIX,  Part  II,  Jan.,  1895. 

The  novel  data  in  this  paper  comprise  a  series  of  brain-weights 
from  135  catarrhine  apes.  These  have  been  collected  from  the 
literature  and  carefully  compiled  in  tables.  For  reasons  given  in 
the  text,  brains  preserved  in  alcohol  are  considered  to  have  lost 
about  33  per  cent,  of  their  fresh  weights.  Where  the  brain-weight 
was  deduced  from  the  cranial  capacity,  the  capacity  in  cubic  centi- 
meters was  taken  as  equal  to  the  same  number  of  grammes.  There 
is  evidence  that  the  brain  much  more  nearly  fills  the  cranium  in  these 
apes  than  it  does  in  the  case  of  man,  and  this  method  introduces  no 
very  great  error.  To  be  compared  with  these  data  are  those  on  the 
growth  of  the  human  brain,  based  on  the  figures  by  Boyd. 

The  period  during  which  the  brain  grows  is  much  longer  in  man 
than  in  apes,  even  though  the  author  is  inclined  to  limit  the  growing 
period  in  man  to  twenty  years.  The  difference  between  the  brain- 
weight  at  birth  and  at  maturity  in  man  is  greater  than  in  the  apes, 
or  other  mammals  which  have  here  been  studied.  This  is  but 
a  different  expression  of  the  fact  that  in  man  the  brain  grows  for  a 
longer  period.  The  central  nervous  system  is  precocious  in  its  de- 
velopment, and  attains  nearly  its  full  weight,  while  yet  the  body- 
weight  is  little  more  than  one-third  that  of  the  adult.  In  all  mammals 
this  precocity  of  the  central  system  is  evident,  and  is  most  marked 
in  the  cephalic  subdivisions  of  it.  All  these  features  are  emphasized 
in  man.  From  a  comparison  according  to  sex  of  the  data  on  the 
brain  weights  of  the  several  groups  of  apes,  it  appears  that  just  as  in 
man,  the  male  has  a  heavier  encephalon. 

This  is  a  most  interesting  discovery.  Our  author  then  attacks 
the  difficult  problems  of  the  relation  between  the  mass  of  the  body 



and  that  of  the  central  nervous  system.  He  seeks  the  determination 
of  the  'corporeal  concomitant'  or  the  number  of  grammes  increase 
in  brain  for  each  kilo,  of  increase  in  body  weight. 

Assuming  this  to  be  a  valid  relation,  the  entire  'corporeal  con- 
comitant' of  the  adult  man  would  be  but  a  small  fraction  of  the 
total  weight  of  the  central  system.  The  explanation  here  offered 
is  questionable,  as  is  also  the  explanation  of  the  difference  in  the 
weight  of  the  nervous  system  due  to  sex  ;  making  it  dependent  on 
the  absolute  increase  in  this  corporeal  concomitant  in  the  heavier 
male.  Detailed  tables  accompany  this  paper.  H.  H.  D. 


Ueber  die  Anzahl  der  unterscheidbaren  Spectralfarben  und  ffelligkeits- 
stufen.  A.  KONIG.  Ztsch.  f.  Psych.  VIII,  5,  375-380. 
Professor  Konig  reproduces  with  more  detail  the  result  which  he 
had  already  announced  —  that  the  entire  number  of  different  color- 
tones  perceptible  in  the  spectrum  by  the  normal  eye  is  about  165, 
and  that  the  entire  number  of  distinguishable  brightnesses,  from  the 
threshold  of  sensation  to  the  greatest  brightness  attainable  under 
the  conditions  of  the  experiment,  is,  for  white  light,  572.  The 
method  is  a  simple  one  for  the  mathematician,  and  the  only  wonder 
is  that  it  has  not  been  applied  before.  If  X  and  8  X  are  the  wave- 
lengths of  two  monochromatic  lights  which  are  just  distinguishable 
from  each  other  in  tone,  then  8X  is  a  variable  whose  value  depends 
upon  the  value  of  X.  Within  an  interval  of  the  spectrum  for  which 
X  changes  by  any  fixed  unit,  the  number  of  distinguishable  color 

tones  would  be  J^,  and  the  entire  number  throughout  the  spectrum 

would  be 


x  <*. 

taken  between  the  limits  X  430  and  X  655,  beyond  which,  in  either 
direction,  the  color-tone  does  not  change.  The  value  of  SX,  at 
short  intervals  throughout  the  spectrum,  has  been  experimentally 
determined  by  Uhthoff  (Graft's  Arch.y  34,  4,  i);  hence  the  required 
curve  can  be  laid  down  and  integrated  by  graphical  means.  The 
number  of  perceptible  degrees  of  brightness  is  determined  in  the 
same  manner  from  the  experimental  data  furnished  by  Konig  and 
Brodhun  in  their  investigation  of  Weber's  law  (Sitzungsber  :  d.  Btrl. 
Akad.,  1888  and  1889);  in  this  case  it  is  necessary  to  produce  the 


curve  symmetrically  somewhat  beyond  the  part  which  can  be  laid 
down  from  actual  measurements  ;  but  that  can  safely  be  done,  be- 
cause the  area  taken  in  by  this  means  is  only  a  small  fraction  of  the 
whole  area,  and  has  therefore  only  a  small  effect  upon  the  result. 
The  entire  number  of  discernible  brightnesses  is  in  this  way  found  to 
be  about  660.  These  results  differ  very  little  for  the  eyes  of  differ- 
ent normal  individuals.  For  Brodhun,  who  is  green-blind,  the 
differences  in  sensitiveness  to  change  of  brightness  were  within  the 
limit  of  probable  error ;  in  color-tone  his  number  of  distinct  sensa- 
tions is  about  140.  This  number  does  not  differ  much  from  that  of 
the  normal  eye,  for  the  reason  that,  although  his  spectrum  does  not 
change  beyond  X  550,  he  has  a  keener  sense  for  change  of  color-tone 
in  the  blue-green  region  than  has  the  normal  individual. 

In  this  connection  it  may  be  interesting  to  point  out  a  most  ex- 
traordinary statement  which  occurs  in  a  book  which  is  otherwise  an 
admirable  example  of  good  scientific  method — Havelock  Ellis'  Men 
and  Women.  It  is  there  stated  that  Newton  was  able  to  distinguish 
seven  different  colors  in  the  spectrum,  but  that  most  people  since 
his  time  have  only  been  able  to  see  six.  To  how  many  of  the  165 
colors  which  are  actually  discernible  by  the  ordinary  person,  it  may 
be  desirable  to  give  a  separate  name  for  popular  use  is  a  question  the 
answer  to  which  may  change  from  time  to  time  ;  but  not  to  be  able 
to  distinguish  between  this  question  and  the  question  of  the  number 
of  colors  which  can  be  separated  in  sensation,  is  to  have  a  mind  which 
is  abnormally  incapable  of  drawing  distinctions. 

The  question  of  the  number  of  differences  of  saturation  which  are 
just  perceptible  for  different  colors  has  been  treated  by  Aubert, 
Woinow  and  J.  J.  Miiller ;  but,  of  course,  the  subject  lacks  all  inter- 
est when  the  investigation  is  not  made  with  spectral  lights.  To  de- 
termine by  a  corresponding  method  with  the  one  here  considered, 
the  total  number  of  distinguishable  sensations  caused  by  light  of  all 
kinds  would  require  in  effect  the  integration  by  mechanical  means 
of  a  solid  body  in  space  of  four  dimensions — what  it  is  not  beyond  the 
powers  of  the  mathematician  to  accomplish. 


Die    Wahrnehmung    von    Helligkeitsveranderungen.        L.    W.    STERN. 

Zeitsch.  f.  Psych.,  VII,  249-278.     1894.    Nachtrag  to  the  above. 

Ibid,  VII,  395-397- 
Die  Wahrnehmung  von  Bewegungen  vermittelst  des  Auges.     L.  W.  STERN. 

Zeitsch.  f.  Psych.,  VII,  321-386.     1894. 

A  number  of  researches  have  recently  been  published  (by  Scrip- 



ture  and  Preyer,  in  Zeitsch.  f.  Psych.,  VI  and  VII)  upon  the  man- 
ner in  which  variations  in  the  rapidity  with  which  a  stimulus  changes 
in  intensity  affects  in  various  senses  the  perceptibility  of  the  change. 
In  the  first  of  the  above  papers,  with  its  Nachtragy  Stern  investi- 
gates the  same  problem  with  reference  to  changes  in  brightness. 
After  summing  up  the  results  of  previous  investigations,  which  have 
had  to  do  mainly  with  the  problem  of  the  upper  limit,  or  the  condi- 
tions under  which  rapidly  successive  changes  in  brightness  yield  a 
continuous  impression,  he  describes  in  detail  his  own  researches  as 
to  the  lower  limit,  or  the  conditions  under  which  a  slow  (or  a  single) 
change  in  brightness  is  just  perceptible.  For  these  experiments  he 
used  a  dark  box,  having  on  its  further  inside  wall  a  round  white 
field,  which  was  illuminated  by  light  thrown  exactly  on  it  through  a 
lens,  and  apparatus  for  increasing  or  diminishing  in  measurable 
amount  and  rapidity  the  light  passing  through  the  lens,  without  al- 
tering the  exact  coincidence  of  its  image  with  the  white  field  on 
which  it  was  thrown.  His  results,  which  he  regards  as  only  provis- 
ional, are  as  follows  :  i.  When  the  brightening  is  approximately 
instantaneous,  and  is  at  once  perceived,  the  relative  sensitiveness  ta 
change  of  intensity  is  constant ;  Weber's  law  is  valid.  He  found 
this  relative  sensitiveness  to  change  to  be  about  ^ — not  so  fine  as 
sensitiveness  to  simultaneous  differences.  2.  If  the  objective  change 
lasts  for  a  short  time  before  it  is  perceived,  the  results  as  to  relative 
sensitiveness  and  as  to  duration  of  objective  movement  before  per- 
ception of  change,  are  distinct:  (a)  The  absolute  rapidity  of  bright- 
ening remaining  constant,  the  duration  before  perception  of  change 
is  greater  the  greater  the  initial  intensity  ;  within  a  certain  range  of 
intensities  the  sensitiveness  to  change  remains  constant,  (b)  The 
relative  rapidity  of  change  remaining  constant,  the  duration  is 
shorter,  the  relative  sensitiveness  greater,  the  smaller  the  initial 
intensity  (and  thus  the  absolute  rapidity),  (c)  The  initial  intensity 
remaining  constant,  the  duration  is  longer  and  the  relative  sensitive- 
ness greater,  the  smaller  the  absolute  rapidity.  (This  does  not 
apply  to  sensitiveness  in  case  the  perception  of  change  is  instanta- 
neous.) 3.  Other  things  equal,  changes  in  brightness  are  more  rap- 
idly perceived  and  the  relative  sensitiveness  is  greater  in  indirect 
vision  than  in  direct.  4.  The  relative  sensibility  is  less  (£  to  J) 
when  the  changes  become  perceptible  only  after  an  interval,  than 
when  they  are  perceptible  at  once.  5.  The  reaction  time  in  percep- 
tion of  gradual  change  in  brightness  is  of  considerable  length  (.4  to 
.7  sec.).  Stern  believes  that  the  instantaneous  perception  of  change 
in  brightness  is  different  from  the  perception  of  change  through 


comparison   of  two  phases  ;   both  often  cooperate,  but  can  also  ap- 
pear separately. 

Stern's  second  paper  is  a  monograph  on  the  question  of  the  visual 
perception  of  movement.  It  consists  of  four  subdivisions.  The 
first  (pp.  322-328)  discusses  the  (i)  facts — upper  and  lower  limit, 
difference  between  perception  of  phases  of  movement  and  of  the 
movement  itself,  perception  with  resting  and  moving  eye  ;  (2)  the 
characteristics  of  movement-perception — influence  and  recognition 
of  direction,  of  rapidity,  of  duration,  of  presence  of  objects  at  rest, 
the  sensitiveness  to  difference  for  and  the  attention  to  moving 
objects,  and  the  relativity  of  movement ;  (3)  perception  of  move- 
ments with  different  portions  of  the  retina  ;  and  (4)  visual  illusions 
of  movement.  The  second  division  (pp.  328-341)  gives  a  historical 
summary  of  theories.  The  third  (341-352)  announces  the  results  of 
the  author's  own  observations  and  experiments,  showing  (i)  a  con- 
firmation of  Exner's  observation  that  the  sensitiveness  of  the  retina 
in  the  peripheral  portions  is  greater  for  moving  than  for  resting 
objects  ;  and  that  this  is  due  to  irradiation,  for  both  irradiation  and 
sensitiveness  to  movement  diminish  by  diminished  illumination  ;  and 
(2)  that  after-images  of  movement  appear  when  the  eyes  are  closed 
as  well  as  when  they  are  directed  upon  some  resting  object,  after 
observing  the  movement  ;  they  are  both  positive  and  negative  if  the 
eye  has  been  fixated  during  an  appreciable  time,  positive  only  if  the 
eye  has  not  been  fixated  during  observation,  or  has  been  opened  for 
a  fraction  of  a  second  only.  The  fourth  division  (353-385)  dis- 
cusses the  theory  of  the  visual  perception  of  movements.  Three 
theories  as  to  the  sensory  factors  in  such  perception  are  evidently 
possible:  (i)  that  they  consist  of  several  successive  impressions  of 
the  object  at  rest — the  different  phases  of  the  movement — and  that 
the  fact  of  movement  is  inferred  from  these  ;  (2)  that  a  sensation  of 
movement  exists,  specifically  different  from  other  sensations,  fully 
elementary  and  unanalyzable,  like  color  or  tone  (held  apparently  by 
Exner,  James,  etc.);  (3)  that  a  single  sensory  impression,  obtainable 
in  a  single  instant,  can  yield  the  perception  of  movement ;  but  that 
this  sensory  impression,  instead  of  being  unanalyzable,  consists  really 
of  a  particular  complex  of  sensations  from  retina  or  eye-muscles,  or 
both.  In  other  words,  it  is  a  sensory  group,  forming  a  'fusion  ' 
which  is  introspectively  unanalyzable,  but  is  really  separable  into  ele- 
mentary sensations  of  color  and  of  muscular  contraction,  with  differ- 
ences in  intensity,  quality  and  spatial  relations.  The  term  '  sensa- 
tion' is  applicable  only  in  the  sense  in  which  it  is  used  in  express- 
ions like  ' sensation  of  depth,  of  smoothness,'  etc.  Stern  rightly 

316  VISION. 

rejects  the  second  of  these  theories  and  accepts  the  other  two.  He 
linds  that  when  the  sensory  impression  is  momentary,  admitting  of 
no  comparison  of  phases,  it  may  be  of  three  varieties :  (a)  '  changed 
stimulation ' — change  in  intensity  or  kind  of  stimulation  in  a  given 
region  of  the  retina  may  under  certain  conditions  give  the  percep- 
tion of  movement  ;  (b)  the  *  after-image  trail '  (Nachbildstreifen)— 
in  case  of  movement  of  a  certain  rapidity,  the  after-images  of  previ- 
ous phases  are  still  present  when  a  new  phase  is  reached,  and  form  a 
series  of  images  of  the  same  object,  running  into  one  another,  and 
forming  a  complete  scale  of  intensities.  Thus  different  phases  of 
the  movement  are  seen  simultaneously.  Though  we  are  not  ordina- 
rily conscious  of  these  after-images,  yet  they  give  to  the  sensory 
complex  its  particular  nuance.  Changed  stimulation  can  inform 
•only  as  to  the  fact  of  movement ;  the  after-image  trail  can  inform  also 
as  to  what  the  object  is,  its  direction  and  rapidity,  and  makes  possi- 
ble also  the  simultaneous  perception  of  several  movements  in  differ- 
ent directions,  (c)  Eye  movements.  These  three  principles,  to- 
gether with  the  two  varieties  of  comparison  of  phases  (optical  and 
muscular),  make  five  sensory  factors,  any  one  of  which  may  give  the 
perception  of  movement,  but  which  also  form  varied  and  compli- 
•cated  combinations  with  one  another.  Stern,  in  conclusion,  applies 
these  principles  to  the  explanation  of  certain  complicated  percep- 
tions and  illusions  :  the  reversibility  of  the  impression  of  movement, 
the  relativity  of  movement,  the  rapidity  and  after-images  of  move- 

Stern  nowhere  discusses  the  part  played  by  memory-images  of 
other  sensory  factors,  when  any  one  of  the  above-named  factors 
arouses  the  perception  of  movement.  He  claims,  for  instance,  that 
the  Nachbildstreifen  alone,  independently  of  eye-movement  sensa- 
tions, can  give  the  perception  of  movement.  It  is  true  that  this 
may  be  the  only  present  sensory  factor.  But  the  complete  percep- 
tion of  movement  must  be  a  very  complicated  affair,  the  gradually 
perfected  product  of  a  great  amount  of  experience  of  cooperating 
sensory  factors  ;  and  may  it  not  be  that  the  memory-images  of  sen- 
sations from  eye  and  other  active  bodily  movements  form  a  promi- 
nent and  necessary  factor  in  every  perception  of  movement  ?  If  so, 
then  the  Nachbildstreifen  or  other  singly  present  sensory  factor, 
«ven  when  it  arises  from  several  simultaneous  movements  in  differ- 
ent directions,  would  receive  its  perceptual  interpretation  as  move- 
ment only  through  the  admixture  of  such  memory-images. 

Furthermore,  to  the  reviewer,  it  has  seemed  as  if  there  might  be 
a  sixth  sensory  factor  sometimes  operative,  especially  in  case  of  the 


after-images  of  movement.  When  the  eyes  have  been  exposed  for 
a  length  of  time  to  a  flickering  light,  the  flickering  sometimes  con- 
tinues for  a  period  after  cessation  of  the  stimulus  ;  and  might  be 
explained  as  a  continuation  of  the  rhythmic  adjustment  which  the 
retina  during  stimulation  is  making  to  the  rhythmically  changing 
intensities  of  stimulation.  Now  in  case  of  prolonged  observation  of 
a  movement,  as  of  a  revolving  spiral  or  a  waterfall,  etc.,  such  flick- 
erings  practically  proceed  in  waves  along  the  stimulated  portions  of 
the  retina,  and  may  possibly  continue  in  the  same  or  opposite  sense 
on  cessation  of  the  stimulus,  and  be  a  factor  in  the  positive  and 
negative  after-images  of  movement,  which  Stern  attributes  wholly 
to  the  Nachbildstreifen.  E.  B.  DELABARRE. 



Experimented  Untersuchungen  iiber  das  Geddchtniss.  W.  LEWY.  Zeitschr^. 
f.  Psych.  VIII,  231-272. 

Of  the  two  groups  of  experiments  here  recorded,  the  first  relates 
to  memory  (retentiveness)  of  small  visual  distances  (20-200  mm.)., 
By  the  use  of  an  appropriate  *  Augenmassapparat '  on  which  the 
*  normal'  distances  were  each  exposed  for  5  sees,  in  arbitrary  order 
and  by  application  of  the  method  of  average  error,  it  was  found  that 
the  error  increased,  in  general,  with  the  time  of  retention  (1-60 
sees.),  with  exclusion  of  ocular  movement,  with  distraction  of  the  at- 
tention during  the  interval  of  retention,  with  shortened  exposure- 
time,  and  when  two  distances  for  retention  were  taken  in  succession 
instead  of  one.  The  most  striking  exception  was  that  one  second 
for  retention  was  much  less  favorable  than  two,  due,  in  L.'s  opinion,, 
not  to  oscillating  attention,  but  to  the  necessary  haste.  Other 
variations  suggesting  periodicity  in  the  clearness  of  the  image,  he 
inclines  to  attribute  to  causes  as  yet  unknown.  The  memory  was 
not  appreciably  improved  by  practice. 

The  second  group  of  experiments  deals  with  the  local  memory  of 
simple  touch-sensations.  The  area  of  stimulation  was  a  limited 
region  on  the  dorsal  side  of  the  arm  above  the  wrist,  the  method 
of  measurement  again  that  of  average  error.  Under  the  most 
favorable  conditions  it  was  found  that  the  error  steadily  increased 
with  the  time-interval  for  retention  ;  was  more  frequent  and  greater 
in  a  distal  than  in  a  proximal  direction  ;  was  less  when  estimated 
with  reference  to  the  point  ultimately  judged  right  than  when  referred 
to  the  point  first  selected  ;  curiously  varied,  being  even  in  one  case 


less,  when  the  retention-interval  was  'filled.'  The  slight  influence 
of  mental  reckoning  compared  with  its  marked  influence  in  the  case 
•of  small  visual  distances,  indicates  the  importance  in  reckoning 
of  ocular  movement.  Accuracy  of  localisation  was  improved  with 
practice,  with  variations,  however,  not  easily  explained.  The  intro- 
spective evidence,  which  is  well  presented  as  supplementary  to  the 
bare  record  of  the  tables,  shows  that  the  feeling  of  defective  atten- 
tion by  no  means  always  coincides  with  greater  error  in  localisation, 
while  in  the  first  group  it  shows  how  manifold  and  individually  varied 
.are  the  factors  which  determine  the  accuracy  of  even  a  compara- 
tively simple  act  of  recognition. 

The  Relation  of  Attention  to  Memory.     W.  G.  SMITH.      Mind,  N.  S.  IV, 
47-73.     January,  1895. 

An  experimental  study  from  the  Physiological  Laboratory  at  Ox- 
ford! Under  suitable  conditions  sets  of  letters  were  exposed  each 
for  10  sees. ;  the  reagent  then  repeated  what  he  could  remember. 
While  memorizing,  the  attention  was  variously  distracted.  Finally, 
experiments  were  made  for  'normal'  results.  Comparison  of  the 
cases  showed  that  the  greatest  disturbance  was  caused  by  the 
activity  involved  in  summation  (arithmetical  progression),  and  that 
that  produced  by  speech  (repetition  of  a  syllable)  was  greater  than 
that  produced  by  mere  muscular  movement  (tapping  with  the 
finger).  The  results  emphasize  afresh  the  importance  of  the  motor 
factor  in  memory,  particularly  in  the  suggested  interference  of  the 
articulatory  innervations  involved  in  memorizing  by  the  activity  of 
the  vocal  mechanism.  In  the  relatively  large  number  of  errors  of 
insertion  and  displacement  in  the  group  where  distraction  was 
greatest,  the  author  sees  the  influence  of  inattention  not  only  to 
•cause  fewer  ideas  to  be  recollected,  but  especially  to  confuse  and 
-derange  the  associative  connections  :  this  against  Munsterberg.  In- 
attention disturbs  the  apperceptive  process,  tends  to  turn  Wahrneh- 
mung  into  Empfindung  and  to  produce  a  sort  of  Seelenblindheit ;  the 
•essential  fact  in  attention,  on  the  other  hand,  is  'the  strengthening 
of  an  idea  or  impression  by  the  processes  of  blending  and  redintegra- 
tion.' Contiguity  in  association  is  merely  formal  ;  the  real  causes 
are  dynamic  factors,  such  as  Attention  and  Interest,  and  these 
mainly  in  connection  with  motor  agencies. 

The  author  introduces  a  novel  'positive'  method  of  measuring 
the  accuracy  of  reproduction,  viz.,  by  marking  it  on  a  certain  scale 
like  an  examination-paper  ;  but  it  does  not  appear  to  what  extent 
the  '  negative '  metlmd  ,of  .error,  -which  he  also  uses,  is  thereby  con- 


trolled.  The  paper  as  a  whole  represents  a  noteworthy  transition 
from  the  experimental  study  of  the  time-relations  of  memory  begun 
by  Ebbinghaus  to  the  more  difficult  experimental  study  of  the 
analysis  and  dynamic  relations  of  its  constituents. 

What  do  we  mean  by  Intensity  of  Psychical  States?     F.  H.  BRADLEY. 
Mind,  N.  S.  IV,  1-27.     January,  1895. 

That  sensations  are  not  measurable  quantities,  that  "our  judg- 
ments of  more  intensity  can  be  expressed  without  the  hypothesis 
that  more  units  have  been  added  to  a  growing  sum"  (James),  is  an 
opinion  now  widely  prevalent  as  the  result  of  innumerable  discussions 
of  Fechner's  psycho-physical  formula.  Such  is  not  the  opinion  of 
Mr.  Bradley.  He  holds  that  not  sensations  only,  but  psychical 
states  generally,  have  quantity  in  all  manner  of  respects,  are  in 
principle  measurable,  and  therefore,  since  degrees  not  resting  on 
units  are  meaningless,  do,  in  some  sense,  imply  the  hypothesis 
which  the  above  quotation  rejects.  The  argument,  which  is  too 
subtle  and  elaborate  for  brief  reproduction,  admirably  succeeds  in 
its  professed  object  of  raising  doubts.  In  the  exposure  of  ambigui- 
ties, the  analysis  of  aspects,  in  fact,  the  whole  dialectical  'business* 
of  discovering  and  considering  difficulties,  Mr.  Bradley  shows  his 
unrivalled  skill  :  there  may  be  much  more  to  say  on  the  points 
noticed,  it  would  be  hard  to  name  any  point  essential  to  the  discus- 
sion which  has  been  overlooked.  The  article  is  too  important  to  be 
passed  without  comment,  especially  by  psychologists  committed  to  an 
opposite  theory,  who  in  propositions  like  the  following,  '  the  idea  of 
the  extended  has  extension,  the  idea  of  the  heavy  has  weight,'  etc., 
will  no  doubt  find  matter  for  explosion.  On  the  other  hand,  the 
views  which  Mr.  Bradley  recommends  would  seem  to  have  little 
bearing  on  the  actual  measurement  of  states  of  consciousness,  so  far, 
at  least,  as  they  are  considered  as  amounts  of  psychical  existence  ; 
for  here  the  units,  though  they  must  be  assumed,  cannot  probably 
be  shown.  Relativity  of  strength  or  amount,  distinctions  of  kinds 
and  scales — these  are  the  leading  ideas,  the  import  of  which  may  be 
seen  in  the  confusion  which  disregard  of  them  has  brought  into 
many  a  controversy. 

An  Analysis  of  Attention.     ALEXANDER  F.  SHAND.      Mind,  N.  S.  Ill, 

449-473.     October,  1894. 

The  confusion  complained  of  by  Mr.  Bradley  has  certainly  not 
been  wanting  in  the  controversy  as  to  the  effect  on  the  intensity  of 
mental  states  produced  by  attention.  Attention  is  said  to  increase 


the  strength  of  sensations  and  the  clearness  of  ideas,  and  in  general 
to  be  connected  with  predominance  in  consciousness  of  the  presented 
content  ;  with  which  assertions  the  view  that  attention  is  not  itself 
presentable  but  a  'special  activity*  of  the  subject  is  sometimes 
associated.  Mr.  Shand  denies  the  necessity  of  this  supposed  con- 
nection of  attention  with  increased  intensity  or  clearness  in  the 
object :  the  object  may  become  obscured  or  even  fade  out  while  we 
watch  it — a  remark  which  seems  also  to  deny  that  the  so-called  fluc- 
tuations of  attention  need  be  fluctuations  of  attention  at  all.  What 
attention  really  does  is  to  make  us  more  clearly  aware  of  the  object, 
to  make  our  consciousness  of  it  predominant,  or  rather,  since  *  atten- 
sion'  merely  expresses  the  fact  'I  am  attending/  it  is  this  clearer 
awareness.  The  changed  strength  of  the  object  is  primarily  due  to 
variable  concomitants  of  attention,  such  as  accommodation  and 
'interest';  attention  itself  is  a  distinct  process.  This  process  con- 
sists in  apperceiving  a  felt  content  in  such  sort  as  to  develop  a 
greater  awareness  of  its  systematic  complexity.  Its  earlier  stages 
actively  condition  the  later ;  it  also  reacts,  the  duality  of  conscious- 
ness being  after  all  a  'continuum,'  on  the  idea  or  sensation  attended 
to,  so  far,  namely,  as  to  make  that  more  active  in  evoking  the 
fusion  and  association  necessary  to  the  further  understanding  of  the 
object.  Thus  one  element  in  attention  is  'feeling,'  immediate 
awareness  of  presentation,  the  other  is  'thought'  or  interpretation. 
And  this  process,  pace  Mr.  Ward,  is  as  directly  felt  or  experienced 
as  sensation. 

That  I  am  or  may  become  aware  of  the  degrees  of  my  awareness, 
and  that  attention,  in  the  sense  defined,  is  therefore  a  fact  of  ex- 
perience and  not  a  metaphysical  abstraction  seems  indisputable. 
How  far,  on  the  other  hand,  it  is  rightly  said  to  be  directly  felt,  may 
be  a  question  of  terminology  ;  but  in  asserting  this  direct  feeling  of 
a  distinct  process  as  over  against  the  feeling  of  what  are  described 
as  its  concomitants,  e.  g.,  the  strain  of  accommodation,  etc.,  Mr. 
Shand  is  virtually  engaged  in  a  triangular  combat — he  opposes  not 
only  Ward,  but  some  to  whom  Ward  is  himself  opposed. 



La  Sanction  Morale.      F.    PAULHAN.      Revue   Philosophique,   Mars, 
1894,  pp.  267-286,  and  Avril,  1894,  pp.  395-419. 

According  to  the  author,  the  Moral  Sanction  is  the  logical  con- 
sequence of  responsibility.  Responsibility  is  merely  a  certain  apti- 


tude  for  the  sanction.  The  moral  tendency  of  the  first  is  satisfied 
by  the  second,  in  much  the  same  manner  as  the  tendency  of  hunger 
is  satisfied  by  the  act  of  eating.  To  regard  a  sanction  as  logical  and 
moral,  implies  a  logical  and  moral  world  perfectly  systematized,  and 
which  is  realized  in  our  world  in  proportion  as  that  world  is  moral 
and  logical.  The  consequences  of  the  acts  of  an  individual,  which 
constitute  this  moral  sanction,  may  affect  the  individual  himself  if 
the  personality  regarded  as  a  whole  is  responsible,  or  merely  the  ten- 
dencies which  have  determined  these  acts;  but  always  in  a  way  cal- 
culated to  lead  to  a  more  complete  systematization  of  the  whole,  an 
element  of  which  experiences  the  sanction.  The  only  end  and  the 
only  justification  of  punishment  or  of  reward,  the  essential  elements 
of  the  sanction,  are  the  elimination  or  prevention  of  evil,  the  furth- 
erance or  the  development  of  the  good.  Pleasure  and  pain  are 
signs  of  the  sanction  rather  than  the  sanction  itself.  Repression  of 
evil  is  in  itself  a  sign  of  disorder;  in  a  perfect  world,  devoid  of  evil, 
punishment  would  be  wanting  and  the  sanction  would  consist  merely 
in  the  preservation  of  the  organism. 

As  regards  partial  and  impartial  responsibility  and  the  correspond- 
ing sanction,  inasmuch  as  there  is  always  a  certain  solidarity  between 
the  different  parts  of  a  moral  person,  the  responsible  element  can  be 
reached  ordinarily  only  by  acting  upon  the  individual  or  upon  another 
element.  The  more  this  element  is  systematically  associated  with 
the  individual,  the  more  the  sanction  applied  to  the  individual  will 
result  in  coordinating  the  elements  of  the  ego,  so  that  they  in  turn 
will  exercise  their  combined  influence  upon  the  responsible  element, 
and  consequently  the  more  the  reward  or  punishment  of  the  individ- 
ual will  be  just,  and  will  have  the  character  of  a  moral  sanction. 
However,  inasmuch  as  the  complete  coordination,  or  total  incoordina- 
tion  of  the  psychical  elements  are  purely  theoretical  cases,  no  sanc- 
tion affecting  the  entire  personality  is  ever  applied  either  with 
absolute  justice,  or  absolute  injustice. 

The  general  rules  of  the  sanction  apply  also  to  the  diseased,  to 
the  insane  as  well  as  the  sane.  So  far  as  parts  of  their  minds,  some 
tendencies,  may  still  afford  some  degree  of  coordination,  they  may 
be  the  object  of  a  moral  sanction.  In  the  great  majority  of  cases 
the  sanction  should  not  be  applied  to  the  whole  of  the  personality; 
consequently  tribunal  intervention  would  be  uncalled  for.  The  sanc- 
tion applies  vigorously  to  criminals  who  are  called  insane  only  because 
they  lack  altruistic,  or  moral  feelings,  provided  the  coordination  of 
their  acts  and  feelings  is  complete  and  consistent  in  all  other  respects. 

The  sanctions  of  the  social  organism  are  akin  to  the  sanctions  of 

322  ETHICAL. 

the  psychical,  and  the  two  follow  a  similar  process  of  development,  in 
which  three  distinct  stages  may  be  noted.  The  first  and  inferior 
form  of  sanction  is  automatic  in  character,  and  arises  where  the 
systematization  is  but  slight;  the  final  form  is  also  automatic,  but 
superior  in  this  that  the  systematization  is  far  greater.  There  is  an 
intermediary  stage  of  a  conscious  form  of  sanction,  where  prepara- 
tion is  made  simultaneously  or  successively  for  the  superior  automat- 
ism. This  is  accomplished  by  the  growth  and  synthesis  of  the  new 
elements  which  are  to  enter  into  the  final  stage,  and  by  the  coordina- 
tion of  the  acquisitions  already  made,  and  also  by  the  more  active 
intervention  of  the  social  ego  which  has  not  regularly  interposed  in 
the  first  stage,  and  which  in  the  final  one  is  represented  by  the  gen- 
eral solidarity  of  the  elements  of  the  system.  The  sanction  is  more 
perfect  in  proportion  as  the  good  is  more  simply  encouraged  and  the 
evil  more  simply  restrained,  and  the  greater,  the  precision,  without 
employing  intermediaries  merely  to  apply  the  sanction.  The  penal 
sanction  is  therefore  indirect  and  incomplete.  The  perfect  natural 
sanction,  without  intention  of  reward  or  punishment,  is  the  best  and 
highest  form.  F.  Paulhan,  in  short,  regards  the  moral  sanction  as  a 
particular  case  of  natural  selection,  in  the  conservation  of  the  good, 
and  the  elimination  of  the  evil.  It  seems  to  me,  however,  that  the 
conscious  feature  of  the  intermediate  stage  in  the  development  of 
the  moral  sanction  from  inferior  to  superior  automatism,  implies  a 
voluntary  psychical  factor  which  is  quite  foreign  to  natural  selection. 
In  this  stage  would  appear  reflection,  deliberation,  conflict  of  desires, 
the  various  manifestations  of  moral  feeling,  etc.,  all  of  which  must 
either  be  explained  away,  or  their  importance  unduly  minimized  if  F. 
Paulhan's  account  is  to  stand.  Moreover  his  designation  of  sanc- 
tions as  just,  or  unjust,  introduces  ideas  whose  metaphysical  implica- 
tions are  incompatible  with  a  naturalistic  ethic. 

Origines  et  conditions  de  la  moralitd.     PIOGER.      Revue  Philosophique, 
Juin,  1894.      Pp.  634-656. 

The  author  contends  that  there  is  a  difference  between  a  theory 
of  morals  and  moral  practice.  The  latter  antedates  the  former  and 
gives  form  and  content  to  it.  The  early  moral,  and  religious  prac- 
tices as  well,  have  preeminently  a  social  character.  Even  the  con- 
ception itself  of  moral  good  implies  the  conception  of  a  social  good. 
Morality  is  not  merely  a  matter  of  the  intention  ;  and  even  if  it 
were,  the  intention  must  be  regarded  as  having  very  complex  ante- 
cedents, and  as  a  part  of  an  extended  system  showing  a  solidarity 
in  the  act  and  in  the  intention,  and  a  still  more  complex  solidarity 


of  act  and  intention  taken  together.  Morality  is  rather  the  product 
of  sociability,  producing  social  instincts,  appearing  in  the  form  of 
customs,  moral  practices,  and  finally  a  theory  of  morals.  As  health 
is  the  harmony  of  organic  functions,  morality  is  the  harmonious 
manner  in  which  the  reciprocal  relations  of  social  beings  is  estab- 
lished. Immorality  is  social  disease. 

There  is  no  intuitive  moral  law  before  experience,  for  there  is 
experienced  morality  before  the  consciousness  of  moral  law  began  to 
dawn.  This  is  abundantly  established  by  the  marked  sociability 
among  animals  and  an  unbroken  line  of  development  from  the  social 
instincts  of  the  lowest  order  of  animals  to  the  reflective  morality  of 
the  most  highly  civilized  man.  Morality  is,  therefore,  the  result  of 
the  social  and  moral  evolution  of  the  race.  The  unconscious  soli- 
darity of  social  animals,  the  morality  of  the  Fuegians  and  Tasma- 
nians,  and  the  advanced  morality  of  our  age,  all  have  the  common 
elements  of  reciprocity  and  mutual  dependence.  Even  in  the  life 
of  to-day  conscious  morality  is  the  exception,  and  automatic,  in- 
stinctive morality  is  the  rule.  Reflection,  questionings  of  con- 
science, deliberations  of  the  will,  all  mark  a  derangement  of  the 
natural  moral  functioning.  Therefore,  since  morality  is  developed, 
it  is  necessary  to  go  to  the  simplest  and  earliest  forms  of  its  mani- 
festation to  discern  its  essential  character.  Beginnings  of  morality 
emerge  in  the  necessities  of  hunger,  defense,  reproduction,  etc. ; 
this  is  true  also  for  all  social  animals.  In  history  morality  develops 
parallel  to  social  organization.  The  force  of  obligation  and  of 
moral  sanction  lie  in  the  appreciation  of  the  end  —  conservation 
of  the  species  and  the  race.  Intelligence  becomes  more  and  more 
aware  of  the  necessity  and  advantage  of  solidarity.  Moral  senti- 
ments are  accounted  for,  inasmuch  as  the  organic  functional  charac- 
ter of  morality  is  such  as  to  form  an  integral  part  of  our  social 
vitality,  and  cannot  be  disturbed  or  inhibited  without  results  dis- 
turbing it  and  the  unity  of  action  of  all  our  functions.  The  genesis 
of  social  conscience  arises  through  a  differentiation  of  the  nervous 
system  especially  adapted  to  the  reception  of  social  excitations,  as 
the  sense  of  sight  results  from  a  nervous  differentiation  especially 
adapted  to  receive  luminous  vibrations.  Morality  is  conformable  to 
the  same  general  laws  of  differentiation,  and  of  coordination,  and 
adaptation  and  organization,  as  our  other  forms  of  physiological  and 
psychological  activity. 

Dr.  Pioger,  as  it  will  be  seen,  takes  a  point  of  view  similar  to 
that  of  F.  Paulhan.  His  article  contains  also  several  unwarranted 
inferences.  While  it  is  true  that  the  lower  order  of  animals,  the 

324  ETHICAL. 

morality  of  the  Fuegians,  and  that  of  the  most  highly  civilized  peo- 
ples, may  contain  the  common  element  of  sociability,  still  that  com- 
mon element  represents  a  minimum  which  is  quite  inadequate  to 
express  completely  the  essential  features  of  morality.  Prof.  Ed- 
ward Caird's  contention  in  reference  to  the  evolution  of  religion  has 
a  similar  application  to  ethic:  "that  we  must  read  development 
backward  and  not  forward,  and  that  we  must  find  the  key  to  the 
meaning  of  the  first  stage  in  the  last ;  for  to  trace  a  living  being 
back  to  its  beginning,  and  to  explain  what  follows  from  it  by  such  a 
beginning,  would  be  simply  to  omit  almost  all  that  characterizes  it, 
and  then  to  suppose  that  in  what  remains  we  have  the  secret  of  its 
existence."  While  morality  may  be  necessarily  concerned  with 
social  relations,  it  may  quite  as  well  give  law  to  qualify  and  trans- 
form these  relations,  as  that  these  relations  should  determine  wholly 
the  character  of  the  emerging  laws.  That  moral  practices  existed 
before  formulated  laws  does  not  prove  that  the  laws  were  not  exist- 
ent, implicitly  at  least  ;  nor  can  it  be  inferred  that  the  laws  were 
merely  a  classification  or  a  summation  of  these  practices. 

The  Method  of  Idealist  Ethics.     H.  MELLONE.     Philosophical  Review, 
January,  1895.     Pp.  47-64. 

The  most  fundamental  ethical  question  is  the  following  :  What  is 
the  supreme  Ideal  of  human  life  ?  An  answer  to  this  implies  an 
answer  to  other  questions  dependent  upon  it, — the  meaning  and  sig- 
nificance of  moral  authority  ;  the  ultimate  criterion  of  morality  in 
conduct,  the  connotation  of  the  conception  of  right  ;  and  the  proxi- 
mate criterion,  the  denotation  of  right.  The  question  of  there 
being  an  ultimate  ideal  is  an  ontological  one  ;  it  is  the  question  of 
the  nature  and  purpose  of  the  individual  life.  The  ideal  is  regu- 
lative, not  in  the  sense  of  showing  us  what  is  to  be  done,  but  that 
something  must  be  done.  Ideas  of  the  concrete  forms  of  duty  come 
from  sociological  and  historical  studies,  which,  however,  belong 
rather  to  the  sphere  of  practical  or  applied  ethics.  In  the  analysis 
of  our  judgments  we  find  some  depending  on  a  standard  of  truth, 
but  others  depending  upon  a  standard  of  value.  The  latter  from 
two  classes  ;  one,  which  is  formed  independently  of  the  will,  aesthetic 
judgments;  the  other,  are  ethical  judgments  depending  on  a  stand- 
ard of  right ;  that  is,  on  a  meaning  or  purpose  in  our  lives.  The 
motive  which  prompts  us  to  seek  for  standards  of  value  in  these  three 
respects  is  experienced  under  the  form  of  feeling.  The  standard  is 
felt  as  an  obligatory  ideal  ;  in  thought,  as  an  ideal  of  truth  ;  in  con- 
duct and  character,  of  goodness;  in  (creative)  art,  of  beauty.  Natu- 


ralism  or  Materialism  cannot  explain  these  ideals.  In  them  Idealism 
finds  a  key  to  the  nature  of  the  Absolute.  Feeling  is  the  fundamen- 
tal medium  of  connection  and  communication  between  the  individ- 
ual and  the  universal  consciousness.  Purposive  action  is  feeling- 
prompted  action.  This  induces  a  striving  or  e/ows  in  our  nature  of  a 
three-fold  character,  corresponding  to  the  three  ideals — truth,  good- 
ness, beauty.  From  the  individual  point  of  view  this  striving  is 
after  what  is  not  yet  realized,  but  may  be  so — what  is  potentially 
ours.  From  the  universal  point  of  view,  these  feelings,  as  they  tend 
to  become  supreme,  constitute  a  self-surrender  to  that  which  is  ex- 
ternally real.  A  process  in  time  cannot  be  the  ultimate  and  most 
fundamental  fact  in  the  universe.  In  so  far  as  the  absolute  is  such 
a  process,  or  has  a  history,  its  essential  nature  is  not  manifest. 
However,  it  is  necessary  to  keep  firm  hold  on  the  reality  of  the  time- 
processes  of  growth  and  change  in  the  individual  lives  for  which  the 
ideal  may  be  more  or  less  fully  realized.  Here  we  are  confronted 
with  the  problem  :  In  what  sense  is  time  a  reality  ?  Time  or  change 
is  neither  an  absolute  reality  nor  an  absolute  unreality.  There 
must  be  some  via  media  between  them,  which  makes  it  possible  to 
conceive  of  reality  as  a  multiplicity  of  individual,  finite,  growing 
lives,  immanent  in  a  universal  and  eternally  complete  life. 

The  author's  comment  at  the  end  is  in  itself  the  most  appropriate 
criticism  of  the  article  as  a  whole: — ''this  is  not  to  attain  to  a  full 
explanation,  but  only  to  begin  to  see  the  possibility  of  one."  He  is 
to  be  commended  for  his  insistence  upon  a  distinct  selfhood  of  the 
individual,  however,  immanent  in  the  universal  life. 



On  some  of  the  newer  Aspects  of  the  Pathology  of  Insanity.  W.  L.  AND- 
RIEZEN.  Brain,  Part  LXVIII,  winter  1894. 

Owing  to  many  improvements,  to  which  the  author  himself  has 
been  an  active  contributor,  the  silver  staining  method  of  Golgi  has 
been  brought  sufficiently  under  control  to  enable  the  detailed 
anatomy  of  the  central  system  to  be  studied  by  its  aid,  and  to 
warrant  its  application  to  pathological  material. 

This  paper  of  one  hundred. and  fifty  pages  attempts  a  statement 
of  the  fundamental  plan  underlying  the  arrangements  of  the  nerve 
cells  in  the  central  system  ;  the  expression  of  this  plan  in  the  cere- 
bral cortex ;  an  examination  of  the  cortex  in  the  vertebrate  series, 
and  by  this  means  the  determination  of  the  highly  elaborated 
arrangement  in  man,  and  the  separation  of  those  parts  which  are 


fundamental  from  those  which  have  been  later  added,  and  which 
constitute  the  important  distinctions  between  this  most  complex 
cortex  and  that  of  lower  vertebrates. 

To  all  points  of  the  cortex  impulses  come  in  over  afferent  path- 
ways and  from  lower  centres,  and  leave  by  efferent  elements  whose 
cell-bodies  form  part  of  the  cortical  layer.  In  this  manner  all  parts 
of  the  cortex,  where  radiations  of  sensory  pathway  are  found,  become 
turning  points,  at  which  such  incoming  impulses  are  transmuted  into 
those  outgoing.  At  some  of  these  points,  it  appears,  that  sensa- 
tions may  follow  an  experimental  stimulation  of  the  cortex  itself, 
even  though  the  stimulus  be  insufficient  to  give  rise  to  a  well  marked 
efferent  impulse  with  its  associated  reactions,  and  in  this  we  see, 
not  only  a  confirmation  of  common  experience,  but  also  warrant  for 
the  inference  that  in  the  upper  layers  of  the  cortex  are  to  be  found 
the  structures  whose  activity  is  accompanied  by  consciousness.  In 
confirmation  of  this  general  conclusion  there  is  found  a  greater 
differentiation  of  the  outer  portion  of  the  cortex  in  the  predomi- 
nantly sensory  regions — as  shown,  for  example,  by  the  development 
of  Gennari's  stripe  in  the  visual  area. 

The  cortex  of  man  is  most  different  from  that  of  other  verte- 
brates by  reason  of  the  great  development  of  the  deepest  layers  of 
cells.  All  observations  point  to  these  cells  as  concerned  in  associat- 
ing the  cortical  areas  one  with  another,  and  we  thus  have,  as  con- 
trasted with  other  vertebrates,  an  unusual  anatomical  development 
in  man  to  be  associated  with  the  unusual  form  of  mental  activity  in 
man.  Passing  on  to  the  application  of  these  facts  to  disease  arising 
from  disturbances  in  the  cortex,  A.  finds  in  cases  of  alcoholic  insan- 
ity a  degeneration  of  the  dendrons,  and  even  of  the  cell-bodies  of 
the  larger  cells  constituting  the  middle  layer  in  both  the  Rolandic 
and  occipital  areas,  changes  which,  in  the  first  instance,  would 
render  the  passage  of  the  impulses  from  the  incoming  fibres  to  these 
cells  more  difficult ;  and  in  the  second,  when  the  cell  body  itself  is 
involved,  must  modify  and  weaken  the  subsequent  discharge  from  it, 
thus  giving  a  good  anatomical  basis  for  the  symptoms  observed.  The 
changes  just  mentioned,  however,  are  extreme,  and  between  cells  so 
altered,  and  those  in  full  health,  all  gradations  may  be  observed. 

Throughout  the  paper  the  anatomical  point  of  view  is  that  which 
has  been  recently  worked  out  by  the  more  advanced  investigations 
in  this  line,  and  need  not  be  here  recapitulated.  In  the  course  of 
the  argument  many  matters  are  discussed,  but  the  paper  is  most  im- 
portant by  reason  of  the  good  histological  evidence  here  offered  for 


the  architecture  of  the  cortex,  and  most  interesting  to  psychologists 
because  of  the  attempt  to  correlate  this  architecture  with  some  fun- 
damental features  of  brain  activity.  H.  H.  D. 

La  Psychologic  de  I* Amour.      G.     DANVILLE.       Paris,    Alcan,     1894. 
Pp.  169. 

M.  Danville  (the  pseudonyme  by  which  a  brother  of  one  of  our 
most  distinguished  neuro-pathologists  conceals  his  identity),  is  al- 
ready known  in  France  by  his  stories,  and  by  a  curious  article  pub- 
lished in  the  Revue  Philosophique :  '  Is  love  a  pathological  state  ? ' 
(March,  1893).  His  present  book  broaches  a  question  which  until 
now  has  never  been  scientifically  treated,  although  the  way  has  been 
cleared  by  previous  works  by  Stendhal,  Balzac,  Schopenhauer, 
Mantagazza,  and  Bourget.  M.  Danville  gives  us  nothing  that  can  be 
properly  called  the  psychology  of  love  as  founded  on  observation 
and  testimony  (which  would  be  a  very  useful  work).  What  he  gives 
us  is  a  definition  of  love.  Love  is  (i)  a  specific,  entity-like  motive, 
distinct  from  tenderness,  sympathy,  pleasure,  benevolence,  etc. ;  (2) 
subject  to  exclusive  systematization,  with  consciousness  of  sexual 
desire  toward  a  definite  person  of  the  other  sex;  that  is  to  say,  in 
less  barbarous  terms,  that  real  love  is  monogamous;  (3)  accompanied 
by  exaltation  of  sexual  desire.  Love  is  not  itself  sexual  desire,  the 
latter  is  only  an  accompaniment  or  an  effect;  (4)  it  is  accompanied 
by  special  mental  processes.  As  a  phenomenon  of  consciousness  love 
may  be  described  in  the  following  way:  It  forms  in  each  of  us, 
by  successive  perception  of  those  who  awake  the  sexual  instinct,  a 
latent  subconscious  image  which  sums  up  all  our  preferences;  it  is 
for  a  man  an  ideal  image  of  the  most  perfect  woman;  it  is  some- 
thing like  Galton's  composite  image,  developed  in  connection  with  a 
particular  sense.  This  image  persists  through  a  long  time,  aided  by 
any  daily  attention  which  it  may  receive.  Every  normal  adult  thus 
possesses  within  him  such  a  subconscious  synthesis  which  is  nothing 
else  than  his  latent  power  of  loving,  to  be  brought  out  when  any 
real  being  approximates  its  characteristics  closely  enough  to  call  it 
into  activity.  It  is  a  curious  and,  possibly,  new  theory;  and  is  the 
only  thing  in  the  book  of  which  as  much  can  be  said.  A.  B. 


328  NOTES. 


Substance   and  Attributes.     ANON.      London,    Kegan    Paul,    French, 

Triibner  &  Co,  1895.     Pp.  XV  -f  197. 
The  Foundations  of  Belief.     A.  J.  BALFOUR.      New  York,  Longmans, 

Green  &  Co.,  1895.     Pp.  VIII  +  366. 
Gehirn  und  Seele:  Rede  des  Rectors.     P.    FLECHSIG.     Leipzig,   Edel- 

mann,  1894. 
Dictionnaire  de  Physiologic.     CH.  RICHET.      Tome  I,  Fasc.  i,  A — AH. 

Paris,  Alcan,  1895.      Pp.  XII  +  336.     8  fr.  50. 
The  Gospel  of  Buddha.     P.   CARUS.      Second    ed.      Chicago,    Open 

Court  Pub.  Co.,  1895.     Pp.  XIII  +  275. 

La  vie  et  la  pense'e.     T.  PIOGER.     Paris,  Alcan,  1895.     Pp.  260. 
Introduction   to   the    Theory   of  Science   and  Metaphysics.     A.   RIEHL. 

Trans,  by  A.  Fairbanks.     London,  Kegan  Paul,  French,  Triib- 
ner &  Co.,  1894.     Pp.  VIII  -f  346. 
De'ge'ner^'s  et  Desequibre's.     J.    DALLEMAGNE.     Brussels,    Lamertin; 

Paris,  Alcan,  1895.      Pp.  658. 
Entartung  und  Genie :  Neue  Studien.     C.   LOMBROSO.      (Deutsch  von 

Kurella).     Leipzig,  Wigand,  1894.     Pp.  308. 
Degeneration.     MAX  NORDAU.      New  York,   Appletons,    1895.      Pp. 

Thoughts  on  Religion.     G.   J.   ROMANES.     Edited  by  Charles  Gore. 

Chicago,  the  Open  Court  Pub.  Co.,  1895.     PP-  l84-     $I-25. 
The  Philosophy  of  Lotze :  the  Doctrine  of  Thought.     H.   JONES.      New 

York,  Macmillan  &  Co.,  1895.     Pp.  XVI +  375. 
John  Stuart  Mill.     C.   DOUGLASS.     Edinburgh  and  London,   Black- 
wood  &  Son,  1895.     Pp.  XV  +  274. 


Dr.  D.  Hack  Tuke,  the  well-known  writer  on  mental  diseases  and 
editor  of  the  Journal  of  Mental  Science,  died  in  London  on  March  5. 
The  current  issue  of  the  Princeton  College  Bulletin  (Vol.  VII,  No.  i) 
is  devoted  entirely  to  memorials  of  the  late  ex-President  James 
McCosh.  It  contains  articles  by  President  Patton,  Prof.  A.  F. 
West,  and  Prof.  W.  Libbey,  Jr.,  a  poem  by  Robert  Bridges,  a  por- 
trait, and  a  useful  bibliography  of  Dr.  McCosh's  writings  (over  eight 
two-column  pages)  compiled  by  J.  H.  Dulles. 

Dr.  Ernst  Mach,  professor  of  physics  in  the  University  of  Prague, 
has  accepted  a  professorship  of  philosophy  in  the  University  of 
Vienna,  and  will  direct  a  laboratory  of  experimental  psychology. 

VOL.  II.     No.  4.  JULY,  1895. 




University  of  Chicago. 

The  theory  of  pleasure  and  pain,  so  ably  advocated  by 
Mr.    Marshall,1  certainly  represents   a  widespread    opinion 
among  the  competent  in  our  department.     Among  its  up- 
holders are  Wundt  and  Hoffding,  Kiilpe  and  Lehmann,  Sully 
and  Bradley,  besides  prominent  members  of  this  association.2 
According  to  this  theory,  pleasure  and  pain  are  not  inde- 
pendent mental  contents,  capable  of  existing  in  conscious- 
ness alone,  but  a  side  or  aspect  of  other  contents — a  sort  of 
modification  or  coloring  of  sensations  and  ideas.     In  Prof. 
James's  happy  phrase,  they  are   « mere  manners  of  experi- 
encing '  these  other  contents.    Wherever  we  feel  a  pain,  there 
we  have  a  sensation  or  idea,  distinct  from  the  pain,  with 
reference  to  which  the  pain  is  felt.      Furthermore,  we  never 
have  a  sensation  or  idea  which  is  not  felt  with  some  degree 
of  pleasure  or  pain.     So  that  in  every  actual  state  of  mind 
we  are  able  to  distinguish  these    two  sides,  the  cognitive 
and  the  affective.     The  affective  side  of  a  sensation  is  called 
its  feeling-tone,  and  feeling-tone  is  conceived  as  a  necessary 
attribute,  to  be  classed  with  quality  and  intensity. 

The  following  quotations  will  serve  to  make  the  doctrine 
clearer.  Sully  remarks  that  "  pleasure  and  pain  do  not  occur 
as  isolated  experiences,  but  in  close  connection  with  presen- 

1  Pain,  Pleasure,  and  ^Esthetics,  London,  1894. 

1  Read  before  the  American  Psychological  Association  at  its  Princeton  meeting. 


330  C.  A.   STKONG. 

tative  elements."1  Bradley  says:  "  Without  sensation  we 
never  have  pleasure  or  pain.  Not  a  pleasure,  but  some- 
thing pleasant  is  what  we  experience.  ...  If